


Wanting and Things You Can't Have

by Waters



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, F/M, It Gets Better, M/M, Multi, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-04 06:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4128934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waters/pseuds/Waters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamaki and Haruhi’s relationship problems are only growing, and Kyoya doesn’t want to be there for the fallout. Instead he just wants to play Dragon Age and not think about his feelings for Tamaki or his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't be a home wrecker

**Author's Note:**

> While there is a lot of dragon age subtext in this fic, you don't need to know anything about dragon age. I do have a tumblr where you can ask me questions about anything (including dragon age if anything's unclear) and where you can leave detailed feedback if you don't want to do so here: [my tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com/ask)

Kyoya contemplated the character selection screen in front of him.

“I just worry that I made a huge mistake. I followed her half way around the world, I was willing to leave all my friends and I…am I going to fast? I like her but I'm making all these rash decisions and...” Tamaki ran a hand through his hair as he paraded around Kyoya’s apartment. Kyoya sat on his couch, laptop across his legs. Which character origin should he play this time? Kyoya was going to play through all the Dragon Age: Origins character backgrounds before he did his first play through. The key to success was careful, meticulous consideration, after all.

“I-What if I don’t really know her at all? What if this was all a mistake and I should have let her go on the exchange program by herself and broken up with her. It’s clear this was more important to her than our relationship, but I…what if I just fell in love with the idea of her and…” Tamaki was pacing. Kyoya ignored the twisting in his stomach. His apartment’s heat was probably cranked up too high, at any rate sweat was pooling across his collarbone. And across Tamaki’s. Kyoya watched a bead of sweat travel down Tamaki’s throat. Mentally he shook himself and focused.

So far he had played as an Elven Mage, a Dwarf Commoner and an City Elf. Should he be a Dwraf Noble then? Hmmm.

Kyoya clicked on the dwarf icon. 

Tamaki sighed and threw himself on the couch beside Kyoya. “I just don’t want to be with her because that’s what I think I should do or because I invested so much. Or because it’s what I thought I wanted. That could turn out really badly, it could turn out with us married and miserable and I-I don’t want to make that mistake.” The _I don’t want to make the mistake of my father_ went unsaid. Kyoya focused on customizing his character. His heart rate was starting to pick up with something like hope before Kyoya quashed it down. He had more important things to think about. And he shouldn't be playing this stupid mindless game anyway.

And what was wrong with him, that he was happy at his friend’s pain? He knew he wasn’t impartial, that liking Tamaki would make it impossible to ever be impartial about this, but Kyoya had tried so hard to get them together. He had thought he’d be able to be happy for them, and on some level he was. 

Kyoya bit his lip and adjusted the skin tone of his dwarf. He didn’t like thinking that if he hadn’t brought the host club to Boston, Tamaki and Haruhi would be by themselves and Kyoya wouldn’t have any friends left. Except Kaoru. Kyoya didn’t like to think that next year, if he got into Harvard, he wouldn’t have any friends at all. Not even Kaoru. 

“What are you doing?” Tamaki turned to Kyoya.

“As you can see by my screen, I'm playing dragon age. Nanako Shouji sent it to me as thanks after she realized we had been escorting her during my birthday.”

“Right,” Tamaki leaned in close, body heat radiating off him. He smelt like eucalyptus. “I meant, why are you using my laptop?”

“I did explain this to you, you know. This CD only works on PC,” Kyoya waved off the question. Or he waved off the question Tamaki really wanted to ask, which was why was Kyoya even bothering to play some commoner rpg.

Since moving to Boston Kyoya had had a lot of free time on his hands. His English was pretty fluent, so classes weren’t especially difficult, and without the host club activities and with America’s reduced number of school hours, he had a lot of time on his hands. Especially since Tamaki was always off with Haruhi and while hanging out with Kaoru was fun, Kyoya was just a little bit creeped out by him. Honestly, who wants to wake up with someone sitting next to you on your bed, having been beside your unconscious, defenceless body for god knows how long?

But that wasn't really it. Really, Kyoya just wanted some time not to think. 

“Well, if you’re not going to listen to me, can I play too?” Tamaki beamed. It was just a little bit fake. Kyoya looked at him and then at the screen. He raised an eyebrow while Tamaki rolled his eyes. “Okay, can I watch you play then?” He wasn’t smiling any more.

“I suppose, I can’t control what you do,” Kyoya said. He wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his leg. Tamaki leaned even closer. “And in regards to your problem with Haurhi, the best you can do is talk it out. Communication is key etcetera etcetera." Kyoya swallowed. "At any rate it’s normal for relationships to have problems.” 

“I just don’t like that I’m the one always apologizing, and always being accommodating and Haruhi isn’t. I make a mistake and spend forever making up for it, but she makes a mistake and then what, forgets about it?” Tamaki sighed and Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s breath against his face. _He had a girlfriend._

“Do you remember when we met those Lobelia girls? Well I may have blurted out something homophobic—”

“That love between two women wasn’t real?” Kyoya hmmed.

“Yes-Okay I realized that was dumb. But I knew it when I said it too! I was just so nervous that she would leave and I was going to say anything, (offensive or otherwise) that I thought would make Haruhi stay. But I…I keep apologizing for that, to Haruhi, and yet, she doesn’t even think she did anything wrong.” Kyoya raised an eyebrow. Their faces were too close for him to turn.

“You’re talking about the time Benio said the host club was inferior because you’re mixed race.”

“YES! And Haruhi ‘defended’ me by basically saying I was ‘too good’ to be mixed. What is that? How come she never says anything about that!”

“As much as I enjoy talking about your relationship—”

“And I’m bi.” Tamaki blurted. Kyoya’s heart stopped. He heat travelled to his face as his hand stilled over his laptop keys. Tamaki’s breath was still at his neck.

“What.”

“I haven’t told Haruhi. Which is stupid because I know she'd be fine with it. Her dad's bi and I don't think she's going to be prejudice.  The thing is I don’t know how _exactly_ she’s going to react. I know how Hikaru would react, even how Mori would react, or you, but it occurred to me I didn’t actually know what she would do. Would she say it wasn’t important? Would she say it was good that I was being more self-aware? I-when I figured out I liked her, I figure out that I liked guys too. Since I liked her when I thought she was a guy and straight guys don’t develop crushed on people they think are men—”

“Tamaki.” Kyoya’s voice was steady, but barely. “Are you done? You said it yourself, you have nothing to worry about. Give Haruhi some credit. Now be quiet. I can't hear the game dialogue with the way you're carrying on.” Tamaki closed his mouth and Kyoya finished his character creation.

His heart was beating in his chest and he tried not to feel sick. He was happy for them. He wanted them to work out. Tamaki deserved to be happy.

Tamaki. Deserved. To. Be. Happy.

 

 

Kyoya and his Dwarf Noble were still making their way around Orzammar when Haruhi knocked on the door. He saved his game and let her in wordlessly, watching her fidget. She was holding a notebook and textbook in front of her and her shoulders were squared with determination.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

Haurhi sighed and placed her things on the table in Kyoya’s kitchen, shoulder's relaxing. She sat down, waiting for Kyoya to sit beside her. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was messier than usual.

“I was wondering if you could help me with English. I’m not struggling much, but you’re definitely the best person I know in English.”

“Why didn’t you ask Tamaki?” Kyoya sat beside her and flipped open Haruhi’s textbook, it was an analysis of Shakespeare’s King Lear. Kyoya had always had mixed feelings on King Lear. Poor Edmund, forced into a place of inferiority, desperate and alone. Sure, he'd done some questionable things but it was really that one sister that was the worst. Regan was it? Or was it Goneril?

“I didn’t want him to…”

“Worried you’d get ‘distracted’?”

“No!” Haruhi blushed. Kyoya skimmed book. It hit a little close to home, especially considering the plot of the Dwarf Noble Origins. That poor Aeducan bastard. 

“I didn’t want to ask him for help. I just…” Was she being proud or were the relationship problems more severe than Tamaki had made them seem? Kyoya’s gut tied itself in knots. “I used to think Tamaki was an idiot, and then I thought he was really sweet and just lonely and naïve. But sometimes it’s just so frustrating because he just…”

“Is an actual idiot?” Kyoya guessed. For all Tamaki’s sweetness, he was also a huge dork, and a teenage boy who with little concept for personal space and a love of terrible puns. To this day Tamaki could not keep a straight face while saying “Sandy Beaches.” Tamaki was also incapable of ignoring chocolate fountains or walking by cute dogs without petting them. He spent hours deciding what to wear and constantly tripped going up stairs. Admittedly it was pretty endearing and was something Kyoya thought about more than he should.

“I don’t know,” Haruhi said. And Kyoya realized he'd said the wrong thing. What had started as a question about Tamaki’s lack of tutoring ability was quickly going to be a Haruhi Venting Session. Kyoya could feel it. “There’s moments when everything great, where we’re cuddling and,” Haurhi smiled, wistfully, turning even redder. “But it’s not like that all the time, and sometimes he’s just so frustrating. He expects me to laugh at stupid jokes or stuff…well sometimes I get the feeling he’ll think I’ll laugh at them because _you’d_ laugh at them—”

“Did you want to study English?” Kyoya turned the book to face Haruhi. He ignored the migraine that was forming by his left temple. Haruhi looked taken aback for a moment. She narrowed her eyes, searching for something in Kyoya’s expression. Then, not finding it, she pressed her lips into a firm line and nodded.

“Tamaki’s been talking to you about our relationship.”  Before Kyoya could say anything Haruhi barrelled on about English and then they did spend the next hour or so studying. When she finally left Kyoya thought he’d have more time to himself, but realized he had several unread text messages from Tamaki.

_I know the perfect way to resolve our problems. It’s only December now, but I’ll do something big for Valentine’s Day!_

_I SHOULD TAKE HER SKATING! Haruhi said her and her dad used to go skating every year on Valentine’s Day!_

_I don’t know how to skate >.<_

Kyoya bit his lip. Even as he typed the message he questioned his motivation. This was the wrong thing to do. The selfish thing to do. Kyoya was beyond that, had always one what was best for his family, had never stepped on any toes. But wasn't it Tamaki who had encouraged him to go after what he really wanted?

_I know how to skate_

Kyoya put his phone down and didn’t think about it. He wanted Haruhi and Tamaki to work out their differences. He wanted Tamaki to be happy. He didn’t check his phone until right before he went to bed.

_Kyoya, that’s great! Will you teach me!!!!! PLEASE!!! :’(_

Somewhere in Kyoya’s brain a small voice was whispering, usually he ignored it, but just then, at one o’clock in the morning, it was hard to suppress.

Sure, Tamaki deserved to be happy. But Tamaki could be happy with someone else, it said. And for once, Kyoya didn’t have a response.


	2. Still Not a Homewrecker OR Kanoya's Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ice Skating, Curry and Dreams

Kyoya hadn’t brought his skates with him to Boston, so teaching Tamaki to skate meant buying new skates for them both. Then it meant walking around with Tamaki who insisted that he learn to skate on a pond, because it was more romantic. Except a pond didn’t have boards. So there was nothing Tamaki could cling to. Nothing except Kyoya.

Right now Tamaki was holding onto Kyoya’s shoulders for dear life as he tried to stand without falling. Kyoya’s bare hands were holding onto Tamaki’s hips, trying to keep him steady. It was cold out on the rink, biting, but not bitter. There was snow on the ground that hadn’t been there a week ago and it wasn’t even officially winter yet. The ice on the pond was definitely too thin and there were too many people skating circles around Tamaki and Kyoya. Kyoya hated the visual of breaking ice, it reminded him of his mother, of their car careening off the bridge to the frozen over river below. It had been a long time since he'd thought about that. Usually he skated indoors and he should have insisted they go inside this time, but it was hard to say no to Tamaki.

Tamaki’s grip tightened and then loosened. Tamaki’s hands were warm on Kyoya’s arm. Kyoya was warm all over, except his gloveless hands, which were, as always, freezing. Cold hands, cold heart. Kyoya smiled to himself.

“I think I got it,” Tamaki said. He moved, and suddenly pitched forward, tackling Kyoya to the ground. Tamaki was like a space heater, and his face was flushed red and his eyes were wide and right _there_. His mouth was right there too and Kyoya bet it would be as warm as the rest of Tamaki. But Kyoya wasn't an idiot, and he wasn't cruel, whatever else he might be.

“You’re too close.” Kyoya pushed Tamaki off of him. Thankfully, he could blame his reddening face on the cold. 

Tamaki laughed, Kyoya’s stomach summersaulted and Kyoya wanted to punch something just a little bit. When he was younger he used get that urge a lot.

Kyoya got to his feet. Tamaki’s hand was sticking up in the air and carefully Kyoya took it, hauling Tamaki up and into his arms. He smelt like ironed linen, how a cottage would smell. Warm throw rugs with old wooden beams overhead. Cozy.

“You know I was thinking. The issue between me and Haruhi--sometimes if you're around someone all the time, things start to seem bigger than they are. Maybe, that's the problem with me and her. Because it didn't used to be like this, before. Maybe I should spend less time with Haruhi and more time with you.” Tamaki smiled. He was still too close and when Kyoya tried to hold him at arm’s length Tamaki gripped his forearms, fingers searing into Kyoya’s skin. “So the next time you play Dragon Age I’ll come watch you play. Or I’ll buy a mac version and play it on _your_ laptop.” Tamaki grinned, then looked up at Kyoya. His smile fell. “Are you okay? You’ve been weird lately…you haven't been like this in years...”

“I, you and Haruhi are both my friends, I don’t want to be caught up in the middle of your fight.”

Tamaki didn’t look like he believed Kyoya, but he let it go. Kyoya didn’t like that. It felt like Tamaki was admitting defeat, or like Tamaki could see what Kyoya was, and was deciding to let it lie, untouched. But that was ridiculous. Tamaki had known what Kyoya was like for years. He'd seen Kyoya, maskless, for who he really was countless time. Whatever that look was, it was something else, and Kyoya had to get to the bottom of it.

It took too long for Tamaki to learn to stand by himself. Kyoya stomach alternated between free falling and sinking. After a while Kyoya got Tamaki to stand upright. Kyoya skated backwards, allowing Tamaki to practice the motions of going forward. Were people looking at them? Did they look like a couple? Kyoya wasn’t sure what he wanted, except he was sure. Kyoya gritted his teeth. He knew exactly what he wanted. He just didn’t want to want it.

“We should come here next week,” Tamaki said. “And the week after that, every week at least once, that’s only eight weeks until Valentine’s Day.” Tamaki wasn’t looking at Kyoya. He was looking somewhere far away. Kyoya wondered whether Tamaki was making a mountain out of a mole hill. If Haruhi and Tamaki weren’t just the perfect couple they seemed to be. It was a relief when Kyoya realized that was what he really wanted.

“Then you'll have to make up something to do during this time, if learning to skate is supposed to be a surprise for Haruhi.” Kyoya tried to loosen Tamaki’s grip on his forearms, but then Tamaki’s hands moved to Kyoya’s.

“She won’t ask. I don’t ask her what she does as your apartment every Wednesday.”

Kyoya shivered. “If you’re mad at me I’d rather you tell me than play mindless guessing games.”

“I-I just miss you and you keep trying to push me away.” Tamaki shrugged, like this wasn’t a big deal. Kyoya froze.

“I—”

“If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on that’s fine. But I’m sorry for trying to leave you in Japan. I didn’t...I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were second place to Haruhi, I guess I was just so concerned she’d leave, I sort of figured you’d still be with me and I shouldn’t have taken you for granted.” Tamaki looked at his hands, intertwined with Kyoya’s.

Kyoya was looking at Tamaki, and not looking behind him. He bumped into someone, thankful for the diversion of deep emotional talks. He didn’t deal well with this sort of thing.

“You’re my best friend Kyoya, and you mean a lot to me.” Kyoya watched Tamaki’s Adam’s apple bob as Tamaki swallowed. Kyoya said nothing. Tamaki sighed, like he was disappointed and Kyoya didn’t blame him. “Anyway, next time you play Dragon Age, tell me. I want to see the other origins to.”

“I finished most of them actually. I only have the Dalish Elf next.”

“Ooh, who are you going to pick to play the rest of the game with?”

“I don’t know.” Kyoya didn’t know. And he didn’t want to talk, but talking about this was easier than not talking and having to think. For all Kyoya hated small talk, he hated introspection more. What did that say about him then?“I was thinking of doing two play throughs with good and evil morality.”

“You should do four since there are four different endings.” Tamaki said. Kyoya raised his eyebrow, but Tamaki was still looking at their hands. Or the ground. It was probably the ground, why would Tamaki be looking at their hands? “I did some wiki searches so I wouldn’t be lost. Have you thought of who you’re going to romance?”

“Wah-“ Kyoya coughed. “What?”

“In the game, you can romance one of the companions have you thought—”

“Only you would think that’s important.” Kyoya said. They argued back and forth as they skated. The crowd started to thin out, but the air grew colder. Kyoya’s hands were bright red, but he didn’t say anything. The cold hurt, just a little, but it stopped him from floating away, from thinking this was something that it wasn’t. The biting pain in his fingers also stopped him from wanting to scratch at his neck or break something.

At one point Tamaki took off his own gloves in an attempt to warm Kyoya’s hands. “You should really wear gloves you know.” Tamaki’s hands were too hot. It was like holding the sun and Kyoya didn’t want to be Icarus, he didn’t want to burn or fall.

But he’d already fallen.

“I have twelve fingers,” Kyoya grunted. “Hard to find gloves that fit.”

Tamaki only hummed and rubbed their hands together. Kyoya hated it.

When they were finished skating, Kyoya lead Tamaki over through the snow to a wooden bench and helped Tamaki take off his skates. Kyoya was wearing jeans and the snow soaked through them, freezing his knees where he was kneeling. It was okay. Kyoya didn’t think about his sister, playing ice hockey and teaching him how to skate where their mother had left off. He didn't think of her kneeling in front of him to help him take on and off the skates. He didn’t think about how much he missed that. He had no one to blame but himself.

“I’m planning on telling Haruhi I’m bi this week, you were right. There's no reason not to,” Tamaki said. Kyoya grunted and unlaced the shoes. He rubbed his shoulder, a habit whenever he wanted Tamaki to offer to massage him. Kyoya stopped when he realized what he was doing and stared down at Tamaki’s laces. “I guess I just want her to realize how important this is to me, and not brush it off. I want to feel like she’s trying to be supportive, like she wants to be with me and not like it doesn’t matter either way. You know…even when she confessed to me she didn’t say she was in love with me, she said ‘maybe’ she ‘could love’ me or something. Like maybe if I tried, like I have to constantly try and she…I just want to feel wanted.”

Kyoya didn’t say anything. He didn’t say “I want you” or “you’re the prince of the host club, everyone wants you.” Instead, he removed Tamaki’s skates and then went to work on his own.

“Everyone wants to feel wanted,” he said after a while. He was quiet and he wasn’t sure Tamaki heard him.

Eventually Tamaki said something, but it was even quieter, and Kyoya didn’t hear it. They walked back to the exchange student apartments, in silence.

Kyoya longed for idly chatter for Tamaki to crack bad jokes or trip over something or spot a dog. They got to their apartments without saying anything substantial until Kyoya turned to walk into his room.

“I just want you to tell me what’s wrong,” Tamaki said. Kyoya wanted that to, too. Kyoya opened his mouth to say something. To tell Tamaki everything he'd been holding back, but the words wouldn't come.

“I want you to want to tell me what’s wrong. I…I want you to trust me.” Tamaki swung his skates back and forth. Then he, just like Haruhi had before, searched Kyoya’s expression for something and, not finding what he was looking for, pressed his lips into a line, nodded to himself and left.

 

 

 

When Haruhi didn’t show up for their weekly tutoring session Kyoya was tempted to just sneak into Tamaki’s apartment, take his laptop and play Dragon Age. He didn’t have to think about his life when he played Dragon Age, he just had to think of which character was going to be the “evil one.” He’d decided that the elven mage and the city elf were out. The mages and elves were oppressed enough, he didn’t want to set a bad example. He would still play both of them later though.

Then there was the Dwarf Noble, the third son in line for the throne, whose middle brother tried to manipulate him to kill the eldest, then, when that failed, had killed the eldest brother himself and framed Kyoya’s dwarf. He didn’t want to think about that one.

Eventually Kyoya got up and headed over to Haurhi’s. He tried the door before he knocked and opened it to see Haruhi and Tamaki eating silently at the kitchen table. They were having some sort of pork. Or Haruhi was eating some sort of pork curry, Tamaki was picking at the greens around it, pushing the meat to one side. To say the atmosphere was tense was to say Kyoya was a bit closed off. Last week Kyoya had walked in on them eating dinner too, but that was less dinner and more Tamaki trying  laughing so hard water came out his nose and Haruhi rolling her eyes and smiling.

Haruhi looked up when Kyoya entered, understanding flashing across her face briefly.

“Oh, Kyoya, hey.”

“Hasn’t Tamaki been trying to keep kosher since Yom Kippur?”

“Yes,” Tamaki said pointedly. He was still looking at his food. His shoulders were slumped and he looked like he was tired of fighting. Haruhi rolled her eyes. She was not smiling this time. She was not tired of fighting. Kyoya suspecting if fighting was anything like running, Tamaki would be a sprinter and Haruhi would run marathons.

“Then don’t eat it,” Haruhi smiled, and Kyoya was sure somewhere a vase of flowers were wilting. For a girl who was normally so sweet, she could be cold. Like some bizarre, inverse Kyoya.

“That’s not the point,” Tamaki said.

“It is the point.”

Kyoya wasn’t sure if they just didn’t care he was here, listening to them fight, or if they kept forgetting.

“You,” Tamaki pointed his chopsticks at Haruhi, then seemed to decide that was too bold, placed them on the table. “You said you wanted to cook something for me, and that it was important to you that I eat it, you could have checked—“

“I spent an hour making you Katsu Curry because _you_ asked for curry. I went to a lot of trouble and you don't even care—”

“There are plenty of curries that don’t have pork!”

“Then make yourself something! I was just trying to be nice. I'm not your servant.”

“I just don’t see why I have to be the bad guy just because _you_ made me something I couldn’t eat, when you could have just avoided it!”

Haruhi gritted her teeth and breathed very slowly before stalking out of the apartment. Kyoya figured she was heading over to his place. He watched her go before turning back to Tamaki.

“Well she didn’t plan this very well,” Kyoya said. Tamaki opened his mouth to say something, but Kyoya continued. “But she _tried_.”

Tamaki’s face fell and Kyoya wanted to rush over and say something. Not that he knew what to say.

“You said you wanted her to try, and she’s…trying.”

Tamaki’s expression softened. He ran a hand through his hair, and his hair stuck up, refusing to come down.

“I have to go.” Kyoya didn’t make any move to leave.

“I know,” Tamaki said. He turned back to the food. It was _treif,_ but it was Haruhi’s. “I know.” Kyoya turned to leave, but Tamaki wasn’t finished talking. “Who taught you how to skate?”

“My mother, before she died.”

“She died?”

“Everyone knows she died.” Kyoya clenched his jaw. “Haruhi knows, the guests know. Your dad knows.” Kyoya shrugged.

If Kyoya was being honest, he still had nightmares about it sometimes. They all started the same, him and his mother in the car, on his sixth birthday. Then, the car pitched over the rail. The driver smashed his head on the window, broken glass and blood floated in the air for an instant.

He remembered or dreamed, it didn’t matter, being pushed out the sunroof as the car hit the ice over the river. He dreamt about the sound, the sickening crunch as the ice spilt open. He remembered thudding on the ice, how much it hurt, how the air had been filled with his mother’s screams and then, and then nothing. Silence as the car sank beneath the ice, being pulled into the river’s hungry depths.

Sometimes he woke then, screaming, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he was still there as great beasts came for him. They were made of beaks and claws and feathers black as tar, dark as blood; sometimes these beasts would crawl up onto the ice from the water, demanding his soul. They would drag themselves toward him, dark, bloody smudges lying in their wake. Their claws would  reach for him, their beaks, their rows of teeth would gnash, starving, waiting.

_You let your mother die for you._

Kyoya would scamper back on his hands and feet, bare skin freezing to the ice. His monsters would follow him. They always followed him.

_You don’t deserve to be here._

_It should have been_ you.

Kyoya ran, climbed up the river bank, rocks slicing his hand. He pressed on, bleeding, hurt. He out ran his monsters, knowing they’d be back. They didn’t die, they couldn’t die, they were a part of him. They were him. Kyoya ran thinking of the hotel where his family was.

Kyoya wasn’t sure how his real, six year old self had made it. He didn’t remember that part, but in the dream it stretched out infinitely, until he never quite got there. Or the reverse, sometimes he’d start to run and then he’d suddenly be there, looking at his dad as he realized Kyoya was alive. And Kyoya realized no one had been looking for him.

In his dream, his dad would stare at him, face him and accuse him of being irresponsible. He would yell and scream and lunge and Kyoya would wake up, also screaming, also lunging. In real life, his father hadn’t screamed. In real life, six-year old Kyoya had arrived at the hotel, realized no one was looking at him, and then watched his father turn away. His father turned his back on Kyoya and Kyoya realized, in that moment, exactly what he was.

He didn’t want to think about that now. . Kyoya didn’t want to think.

“I didn’t—”

“Everyone knew.” Kyoya remembered all those times Tamaki had talked about Haurhi’s mother. He remembered how dedicated he was to impressing her, how he had prayed at Haruhi’s mother’s shrine and visited her grave.

“I thought your parents were divorced, you don’t have any pictures of her up and usually—”

“Everyone. Knew.”

The memories, the nightmares, almost indistinguishable now, were flooding back. Cracks were opening up, he was going to fall apart. Kyoya felt a tremor in his arm, the urge to pick at his neck and he knew. He knew.

Kyoya left and stood in the hallway outside of his door. He whipped the half-formed tears from his eyes and tried to keep his hands from shaking.

_You don’t deserve to be here._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have any questions feel free to ask me here or on [my tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> ALSO http://stories-n-things.tumblr.com/post/122589895022/inkypineapple-you-should-really-wear-gloves GO SEE THAT drawing of a scene in this chapter. Please.


	3. Always Wear Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> France, Celebration and Dogs

After last period, Kyoya went directly to the city library. It was the last day of school before break, so the school library was closed, and as much as Kyoya disliked mingling with commoners, he knew he couldn’t go home.

Last Wednesday, as Kyoya and Haruhi were studying English, he had absentmindedly assumed she was going with Tamaki to France for the week. The last day of class was the twenty-second, and Chanukah had started on the twentieth, so Tamaki had decided to leave immediately after class before he missed all of it. Everyone else was going back to Japan on the 24th. Tamaki had made a big deal about inviting Haurhi to spend time with his family and have everyone happy together.

“Have you finished packing for France yet?” Kyoya had asked Haruhi as he stared down The Iliad.

“I’m not going to France.”

Kyoya didn’t want to see Tamaki’s departure, sans Haruhi, and the inevitable fight it would cause when Tamaki tried to ask her, one more time, to come with him.

Instead, Kyoya hurried to the library and pushed through the doors into the lobby. He looked around for moment and then spotted Tamaki, red in the face and panting, suitcase in one hand.

Tamaki pointed at Kyoya and lugged his suitcase over, grinning like a slobbery, albeit attractive, dog.

“I found you!” Tamaki’s smile brightened. “I wanted to ask you something yesterday and then today, but you’ve been avoiding me.” Tamaki pretended to look stern for a second, then laughed. Tamaki’s laugh hit Kyoya like a punch to the gut. “I want you to come to France with me.”

“I-”

“You don’t have to. But you’re my best friend and my mother told me you met her, and my grandparents want to meet you and…and you mean a lot to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kyoya said. Tamaki’s face fell for a moment. “Don't misunderstand. I will go with you. I was apologizing for avoiding you.” Kyoya looked around the lobby, there were people milling around tables and chairs, but no one was looking at them.

Tamaki’s shoulders un-tensed and he flung an arm around Kyoya. “Just watch, this is going to be the best vacation ever! Our plane leaves in a hour so we don’t have time for you to go home and pack, but I got someone to bring some of your stuff. Our car should be waiting outside.”

Tamaki’s presumptuousness should have annoyed him, but instead he felt his gut untwist. Whatever he felt for Tamaki, however inappropriate it was, he was still Tamaki’s friend, he still needed to be there with him.

What was the point of trying to get over Tamaki, if they weren’t best friends in the end?

 

 

Tamaki stared out the window for most of their take off, his eyes glued to the scenery. Why were they in first class on a normal plane and not on the Suoh family jet? Haruhi. Kyoya’s ticket had been meant for Haruhi, who would have taken the jet as an unnecessary luxury if not a flaunting of wealth. Kyoya tried not to feel disappointed.

“I…” Kyoya needed to pick his words carefully. Tamaki’s sweater was falling off one shoulder and his collarbone gleamed, slick with sweat. It wasn’t that Kyoya wasn’t warm, but he’d thought it was just him, rather than the plane. Kyoya swallowed once, ignoring the light playing off Tamaki’s hair. “I’m…” Tamaki turned around.

“You’re…”

“You’ve put me in an uncomfortable position,” Kyoya said instead, because he was a filthy coward. “I know that you’re my best friend, but you expect me to validate all your petty fights with Haruhi. Sometimes you’re right and sometimes you’re wrong, but you shouldn’t make me the mediator. You want the truth, but you also expect me to agree with your regardless, but Haruhi is my friend, I can’t thoughtlessly side with you against her. You shouldn’t be keeping score anyway.”

“But I was right, about the food thing and—”

“No. Look while Haruhi obviously should have realized you couldn’t eat pork, you should have still been grateful.”

“I—”

“She went out of her way to cook something for you, this isn’t something she’s required to do you know.”

“I would never say that! Haruhi just likes cooking that—”

“But from _her_ perspective it seems like you just expect her to cook for you and it should always be up your standard. That’s probably both sexist and classist. That’s not what you meant, but that’s how she took it. At the same time, you shouldn’t be expected to eat something trief—“

“ _Treif_.”

“—Just because she made it. But your problem could have easily been solved by _you_ ordering pizza, or offering to cook something. Or it could have been solved by you talking it out. If you wanted Haruhi to come here you should have explained to her why. She doesn’t value the same things as you. For her whole life, it’s only been her and her parents, mostly her and her dad. You have a huge extended family that she can’t imagine and therefore can’t appreciate. _Yes_ ,” Kyoya cut Tamaki off before he even began. “She should realize family is important to you, but the thing is, if you really explained to her how important this was, she would care. She would care because it's important to you. But if you refuse to tell her, how is she supposed to know what you want?” Kyoya sighed.

He faced forward and ignored Tamaki. He didn’t want to see Tamaki’s face.

“I’m just afraid to talk to her.”

“That’s not a good sign.” Kyoya muttered. 

"Let's talk about something else," Tamaki said. Kyoya looked out the window.

"Gladly."

 

 

Kyoya didn’t speak French. This hadn’t really occurred to him until he was surrounded by various French people all fussing over his and Tamaki’s arrival. Tamaki’s parents, the only two who spoke Japanese, were busy trying to get a cake from the store.

So, Kyoya stood in the doorway of Anne-Sophie’s house, trying not to look awkward.

“ _Tu a tellement grandi! Petit Rene n’est pas petit!”_ An older woman gushed, kissing Tamaki on both cheeks. There was a crowd around them. Two people in the back looked like Tamaki’s grandparents, but the rest could have been anyone.

“ _Tante Rejeanne c'est bon de te voir. Et c’est Rene_ Tamaki,” Tamaki said. Kyoya recognized Tamaki’s name, but nothing else. A serious of relatives rushed forward to kiss Tamaki and awkwardly shake Kyoya’s hand.

“ _Vous êtes à la fois si beau,”_  someone else said. Kyoya just nodded.

Eventually it was just them and Tamaki’s grandparents. Tamaki launched himself at his grandparents. His grandfather laughed, and his grandmother looked like she was fighting back a smile.

“ _Tu es revenu,”_ Tamaki’s grandmother said. Kyoya wasn’t sure where to look. He didn’t want to spoil this heartfelt reunion, but he had to stay close to Tamaki since no one else would understand him. Besides, it was the middle of the night, why was everyone up or at the store buying cake?

Tamaki’s grandfather looked like he was crying, Tamaki was definitely crying. Usually Tamaki was an ugly crier, but right now, he seemed okay. Tamaki withdrew briefly to wipe his tears away and his grandfather turned to Kyoya.

“ _Vous devez être le petit ami de Tamaki. Je m’appele Camile Rene. Le grand-père de Tamaki.”_ He stuck out his hand and Kyoya took it. He recognized some words. For one he understood what Tamaki’s grandfather’s name was and something about being a “small friend” of Tamaki. He wasn’t short, was the “small” bit some comment about his weight?

“Haha _grand- père. Non. Kyoya est mon_ meilleur _ami.”_ Tamaki continued to chuckle, but he looked nervous. _“Il n’est pas mon petit ami,”_ he said the last part quietly. Then he turned to Kyoya.

“You can call my grandfather Rene.”

“I thought you were Rene. What about Camile?”

“Well, my grandmother’s name is Camille so she usually goes by her middle name Jeanne and he goes by Rene. I have two Uncle Renes so it can get confusing. One uncle is ' _Notre_ Rene' our Rene, because he’s the brother of my grandmother and then there’s my grandfather “ _Autre_ Rene,” other Rene and then I was “Petit Rene” or little Rene and then my other uncle is “ _Dernier_ Rene” Last Rene because he joined the family last. I also have a cousin Rene, but he goes by his middle name anyway so…”

Kyoya nodded. “Right.”

“I speak a bit English,” Tamaki’s grandmother said, in English. “I can show you the room while Tamaki is talking of everyone.” Her smile was polite, but not the same ear splitting grin Kyoya associated with Anne-Sophie and Tamaki. He followed her upstairs and arrived at a room. “Tamaki will also be staying here. There’s one bed, but it is big enough for two. We have many guests here so there is not so much room.” She shrugged. Her hair was brown and braided down her back in a way Kyoya was sure was out of fashion.

She patted Kyoya’s arm and sighed. “Thank you. For everything you have done for my daughter and grandson. You are a…good person.” She left before Kyoya could say anything.

A good person. Kyoya wasn’t sure those words sat right with him. He surveyed the room, the simple furnishing, and the large bed that he would have to share with Tamaki. Somewhere, Kyoya was sure, some god was laughing at him.

 

 

Kyoya woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Tamaki playing with a dog. Antoinette? No, she was still in Japan. This was probably her French counterpart. Tamaki was at the foot of the bed, and so was the dog. He rubbed her belly and cooed and the dog panted happily.

 “Hey,” Kyoya said. Tamaki turned at Kyoya's voice, laughing sheepishly, his ears turning red.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” Kyoya bit his lip and rubbed at hand down his face. “Your family seems very excited to see you.”

“Well I haven’t seen them in years! That’s the only reason everyone’s here, Chanukah’s not really that big of a deal otherwise.” Tamaki shrugged. Then he paused. “I mean in my family, I don’t know about other people because they might think it’s a big deal and they’re not wrong, you know, I just…”

Kyoya nodded. He was half asleep. The walls of the room seemed like they could change at any moment and he’d be somewhere else, anywhere else. He yawned and joined Tamaki at the foot of the bed, lying on his stomach to pet the dog.

“What’s this one called? Rene?”

Tamaki laughed and Kyoya hated his heart for beating faster. “This is Hachibei.” Kyoya rubbed the dog’s stomach.

The room was hot. The bed was warm and soft and Tamaki hadn’t packed Kyoya’s pyjamas so Kyoys was in a huge sweater and his boxer briefs. It was intimate. Intimate in the way that staying up all night and making jokes was intimate, in the same way that offering one another shoulder massages was intimate. It was the way they had always been. Except they were in bed together and Kyoya was filling in for Haruhi. He was in her spot doing her job.

“I didn’t mean to brush you off when you were talking about your sexuality, and your issues with Haruhi. It’s…not something I like to talk about myself.” Kyoya yawned and rested his head on the bed, staring at the dog. “I’m sort of…” _gay_. He wanted to say. He was sort of gay. He just wasn’t very good at it. And the idea of having sex with anyone ever was repulsive and terrifying. He could tell Tamaki, but that would mean saying it aloud.

“We can talk about something else. I’m sorry I didn’t know your mother died.”

Kyoya didn’t want to talk about anything else, but he owed Tamaki. He had been a terrible friend as of late. “I don’t think you’re ready for Kyoya Ootori Honesty Hour.”

Tamaki smiled and buried in face in Hachibei’s neck. “The reason I was homeschooled instead of going to private school was because I refused to leave my mother’s side, I would kick and scream and cry, and you know I’m an ugly crier.”

In the dim lighting, nothing was real. Nothing had any weight and Kyoya could whisper all his secrets into the void. He was getting light headed and in a moment he could drift asleep.

“I wake up yelling a lot,” Kyoya said. “When I was a kid I would scream so loud that I had to move rooms onto the third floor so no one would hear me. Sometimes I would sleep in my closest because it was small and safe and I was terrified of sleeping alone. I still hate it. I feel weak when I sleep alone, and I’m such a deep sleeper that I’m absolutely defenseless.” Kyoya closed his eyes. He could here Tamaki and the dog breathing. He imagined they were all in some cabin in the forest with a crackling fireplace. Isolated from the world, free. “Sometimes I still wake up screaming, and I lie in bed, soaked in icy sweat, listening to the pounding of my heart and praying for a sleep I know won’t come and that I’m not even sure I want.”

Tamaki was silent for a moment. Kyoya listened to the imaginary fire and felt its warmth, really the warmth of the furnace. The heat settled over him like a thick blanket.

“When I first came to Japan and my grandmother was…she hated me because I was a bastard and mixed and I was tired of dealing with racism in France that I…I didn’t ask if there was a synagogue. I didn’t tell anyone I was Jewish in case they hated me for that too, and I couldn’t deal with it.” Tamaki’s voice was small. He swallowed audibly. “I didn’t think it would be so bad, but then I felt like a traitor. I…I don’t know.”

“That’s understandable. Christians in Japan used to do that during some point along time ago when Christianity was banned,” What time period had that been? Kyoya couldn’t remember. Sleep was calling to him like a siren, but with Tamaki still there, here with him, it wasn’t enough.

“I once kissed my dog on the mouth, but she stuck her tongue out and—”

“You French kissed your dog?” Kyoya snorted. He smiled into the bedspread. It was silky and smooth. His eyes were still closed, still seeing the imaginary cabin. “I’ve never kissed anyone, and no one’s ever asked me out.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m so approachable…”

“You’re…” Tamaki trailed off. “It’s not the first kiss that matters anyway, it’s the last one.” Kyoya looked at him, then. He opened his eyes and stared. Tamaki had a girlfriend. Something attempted to slither in Kyoya’s stomach, but it was too tried to get very far.

“My mother was the most important person to me.” Kyoya said, yawning. “She was a professor. The smartest person I knew and I idolized her. She was everything I wanted to be, except instead of working on P vs NP I wanted to work with elephants and be an elephant scientist.” Kyoya could see Tamaki smiling gently. “I never understood my dad, or what he was saying half the time. But I always knew my mother loved me.

“Her entire family except her and her sister, who she had to raised, where killed in a fire when she was young. She cared _so_ much about family. I always knew that. When our car went over the bridge, she pushed me out of the car first. She couldn’t get out. I watched her die, helpless, knowing that she could have lived if it wasn’t for me. And when I walked back to the hotel, I saw my sibling and they were all looking for her. They were all thinking ‘Okay, but where’s mom.’ And I knew, I _knew,_ I would never be good enough. I had thought my father turned away was because he was disappointed that I was the one alive. That no matter what I did I would always be someone who had lived instead of the woman he loved.” Kyoya swallowed. He wasn’t crying, yet.

“I talked to him about it last year. Because Haruhi made this big deal about you talking to your grandmother, so I talked to my dad. He said he turned away because he hadn’t wanted to hope either us was alive, because he couldn’t deal with the disappoint, and seeing me alive, he started to cry. He turned away so no one would see him cry.” Kyoya could feel his eyes sting. “Sometimes I believe him. Sometimes I think he spent years thinking of a lie to make me feel better.” Kyoya’s vision blurred.

He watched Tamaki open his mouth and then close it. Tamaki clenched his hand into a fist, staring at the dog and not at Kyoya. “I’m sorry.” What Tamaki was sorry for? Tamaki looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

Kyoya shrugged and buried his head into the blanket, letting sleep wash over him.

“I think you were right. About my problems with Haruhi. I know you’re tired of hearing this, but I…I think the issue is that I’m afraid, but I don’t have reasons to be. She’s an accepting person, and she’s kind and generous, but…I always feel like I’m ‘on’ when I talk to her. Like I have to be sweet and loveable and impress her. It’s like when you hang out with the host club you have all these walls up, and it’s more yourself than lying, but you always look on guard. And that’s how I feel around Haruhi and I shouldn’t feel like that. I don't think I used to feel like that and I shouldn’t have to feel that now and I think I resent it. But I’m just afraid she’s not going to like me, that if she knew who I really was, that she wouldn’t want to date me. And then my resenting that turns into resenting her and I don’t know what to do.” Tamaki’s voice was small and Kyoya wasn’t sure if Tamaki was talking to Kyoya or himself. “I don’t know what I’m going to do for university either. Go to Japan and be with her and some of my friends, but not you and not my family or stay here, in _Paris,_ or maybe stay with you. Or go some place else entirely. I never thought about what I really wanted, I’ve been so focused on keeping the things I have that I…” Tamaki trailed off. Or maybe Kyoya fell asleep.

Kyoya dreamt of owning a log cabin the middle of the forest. The trees reached to the heavens and wolves (extinct in Japan, but alive here) and foxes wandered his forest, but left him alone. They knew he didn’t mean them any harm. Somewhere a sinister snake wove through trees, trying to catch him, but the snake couldn’t get to him in Kyoya’s forest, away from the world.

 

 

Kyoya woke up too early. Hachibei was licking his face. Kyoya opened one eye, trying to intimidate the dog into submission, but Hachibei was having none of that. Kyoya remembered his conversation with Tamaki, not sure if it was a vivid dream.

He yawned and climbed out of bed. His suitcase, which had been full the night before, was now empty and there was a collar and a leash attached to Hachibei’s neck.

Tamaki stumbled into the room a moment later, grinning like a mad man.

“Let’s take Hachibeir for a walk.”

One minute he was comfortable in bed and then he was at a dog park, standing beside Anne-Sophie as they walked and Tamaki chased after Hachibei. Hachibei and Tamaki both seemed intent to interact with every other dog there.

Tamaki managed to throw a Frisbee at someone’s head at least three times and Kyoya tried his hardest not to laugh at Tamaki in front of his mother.

“It was an accident!” Tamaki insisted. And then he threw the Frisbee for Hachibei one more time and hit a child. Kyoya bit his lip to keep quiet. “Oh my god,” Tamaki muttered under his breath before he ran after Hachibei who had made a mad dash toward the Frisbee. The child, seeming to think Hachibei was running for her, screamed and started to cry and Tamaki just kept yelling something in French, maybe to Hachibei, maybe to the child.

When Kyoya looked at Anne-Sophie she was also smiling and trying not to laugh.

After the dog park, Tamaki insisted they take Hachibei down a forest trail. Anne-Sophie kept nodding and grinned. She held Tamaki close, but then she would ruffle Kyoya’s hair and tell him how grateful she was he was here.

There weren’t many forested trails in Paris, but they found a park and a wooded area to walked down. Hachibei continued to sniff and pee on all the barren trees and Kyoya wished he felt better. He should be enjoying this.

Then they found a pond, a pond that had turtles in it. Hindsight was always twenty/twenty, but really, Kyoya should have known.

 Kyoya was responsible for holding Hachibei as Tamaki inspected the pond and Anne-Sophie took pictures with her phone.

“It’s such a nice winter scene,” Anne-Sophie said. A turtle bobbed its way to the surface and then disappeared again. Tamaki inched toward the pond, hoping for a closer look. His jacket was waterproof, but wide open and Kyoya shouted a warning a second before Tamaki slipped and plunged into the pond.

Anne-Sophie said something in French and rushed toward her son. Kyoya stayed back, holding the whining dog.

“I’m fine,” Tamaki said, standing up in the pond. The water came up to his shoulder and he waded through it to the edge before he pulled himself up onto the ground. “I’m fine _Maman._ ” Tamaki laughed, deep and loud in the dead, silent forest.

“You’re soaking wet, you’ll catch something like this. There was a public bathroom near the park…” Anne-Sophie fussed and tutted at Tamaki. Had they forgotten he was there? “You’ll have to go in with him Kyoya,” Anne-Sophie said. “I’ll see if I can buy him pants somewhere.” She shook her head and ushered the boys along the path.

She muttered in French and Tamaki kept laughing. Kyoya allowed a small smile to pass his lips as he looked down at Hachibei, wagging her tail.

“You’ll have to give me your phone number Kyoya,” Anne-Sophie said. “Really I should have had it already. What if you got lost? You don’t speak French. You know what, I’ll teach you to say something. If someone speaks to you in French say, _Je suis désolé mais je ne parle que_ —no that might confuse you. Just say ‘ _Je parle suelment Anglais et Japonais.’_ That means you speak only English and Japanese.” Anne-Sophie continued to talk as they walked, instructing Kyoya on a number of things he was sure he’d forget.

The public bathroom was a lot cleaner than Kyoya expected. It was certainly a lot cleaner than the washroom’s at his high school in Boston. It was no Ouran Academy, but everything was clean and dry except Tamaki. There was a bench and a mirror tucked away in the corner.

Tamaki stripped down immediately, throwing his wet things into the sink. Kyoya had seen Tamaki without his shirt on before, but he was usually dry. Here, in his boxers, wet, slick and gleaming, it seemed obscene.

Kyoya turned away. He didn’t have any desire to touch Tamaki like this, in fact, the feeling sat unpleasantly in his gut.

“You can use my sweater.” Kyoya said. He took of his jacket and sweater, tossing the latter to Tamaki before putting his coat on again. Tamaki took it. He wiped himself down with paper towels before putting it on. He was futilely trying to dry his shoes using the hand dryer. What exactly was Kyoya supposed to be doing here?

Some time later, a man came in to use the facilities and eyed Tamaki strangely. Tamaki said something in French, probably “I fell in a pond,” and the man nodded and finished his business as Kyoya stood around, doing nothing.

Tamaki continued to hold his shoes under the hand dryer. Kyoya sighed.

“I hope your mother buys you ugly pants.” Kyoya said, not looking at Tamaki. Instead, Kyoya looked at the mirror, at himself ostensibly, but he could see Tamaki smile out of the corner of his eye.

“It was an accident.”

“What if the turtle had been a snapping turtle?”

“Then you would have missed the sight of my glorious legs because I’d be in the hospital.” Tamaki waved one leg in Kyoya’s direction. Kyoya rolled his eyes.

“I’m fairly certain a common snapping turtle can’t break legs.”

“Ah, but the imaginary turtle was an alligator snapping turtle. See, you were far away, but I got a pretty could look at it.” Tamaki was grinning, smirking, and Kyoya didn’t know what to do. “Besides even if it was a common snapping turtle it could have crushed a toe or finger, without biting it off or anything. Or it could have scratched me with its claws, which would have left a gash. I would have still had to go to the hospital for stitches.” Tamaki shrugged.

“I guess you got lucky.”

“Or maybe I used my natural good-lucks and charming personality to convince the turtle not to bite me?” Tamaki waggled his eyebrows. Kyoya pressed his lips into a line to stop from smiling. He’d missed this.

“Well I do suppose you have similar…”The insult died on Kyoya’s lips. Instead, he shook his head. “That must be in. The imaginary snapping turtle was in love with you so it had to leave you unscathed.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Kyoya looked at his phone. Anne-Sophie had texted him. “Your mother’s on her way back with pants. She said she would have gotten you shoes too, but the shoe store didn’t allow her to bring the dog in.”

Tamaki nodded and Kyoya looked at him. At his face and his torso, clad in Kyoya’s sweater. He didn’t look at Tamaki’s legs, still shiny and wet.

 

 

The next time Kyoya woke up it was to the smell of cooking potatoes. He opened his eyes and stared at Hachibei. Hachibei cooked her head, then nuzzled into Kyoya’s side. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept so well.

Kyoya went downstairs to eat, not bothering to get dressed. This turned out to be a huge mistake because it was two in the afternoon, Tamaki’s whole family was in the kitchen, eating lunch, fully clothed, and Kyoya wasn’t wearing pants.

Kyoya was caught between the desire to run upstairs and change, and the desire to commit to what he was wearing and act like he had done it intentionally. A girl Kyoya’s age was at the table staring at his legs and a little girl, maybe seven or eight, took a picture of Kyoya’s face with an old polaroid camera.

Kyoya committed.

He sat down at the table and piled his plate high with something that looked like pancakes and doughnuts. They were oily and delicious and Kyoya steadfastly ate in silence as Tamaki’s cousins and aunts and uncles talked. Tamaki was nowhere in sight.

“ _Il est probablement décalage horaire,”_ One woman said, in a stern tone.

The girl his age smiled. “ _Ses jambes sont_ —”

“ _Cecille_!”

The girl with the polaroid camera signed something and Kyoya didn’t feel bad for not understanding. She handed him a picture of Tamaki, smiling with sleep in his eyes and his hair a messy lion’s mane. She then handed him a picture of tree.

Kyoya looked at these pictures carefully. The meaning eluded him.

“ _Qu'est-il arrivé à la petite amie de René Tamaki? Ou est-ce vraiement cette ‘petite amie’ est un ‘petit ami.’”_ This lady looked at Kyoya. She had a red and blue patterned tattoo crawling up her arm, but she was dressed in a pencil skirt and sleeveless blouse so she probably wasn’t a gangster.

“ _Il vraiment comme les galette de pommes de terre, nous devrions dire Jacque qu'il a fait un bon travail. Il a mangé au moins cinq en trois minutes.”_

Kyoya took his plate of food and stared at the little girl at with the camera. She got up too, collected her pictures and headed outside. Kyoya followed her and found Tamaki and his grandmother were outside staring at a tree.

It was too cold for Kyoya to be outside in only a sweater and boxers, so he stood by the doorway and watched.

“Thanks,” he said to the girl. First in Japanese, then in English, and then in French and then he realized with all her signing she might be deaf. He paled for a moment, but she just smiled and took another picture of him, then skipped away.

Kyoya ate his food quietly and looked at Tamaki, his grandmother and another old woman argue in some language that he definitely didn’t understand, but which he knew wasn’t French.

Tamaki turned to him once, he looked over, smiled, and looked Kyoya up and down, staring at his legs and then slowly panning back up to Kyoya’s face. Tamaki mumbled something and Kyoya could see his eyes were wide. His face was red too, but it was cold outside. That had to be it.

Kyoya went back inside and back upstairs where be made progress in this evil play through of Dragon Age, with the Human Noble and didn’t come downstairs until Anne-Sophie dragged him to dinner.

The dinning room was laden with food, but there were no chairs set. There must have been more people then Kyoya originally thought. More than two-dozen at least. The food was set up in some sort of buffet style and Kyoya didn’t know what anything was or whether he wanted to eat it. He was staring at the food, contemplating his options when Anne-Sophie handed him a brightly wrapped box. Anne-Sophie winked at him and headed off. Kyoya didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

The wrapping paper was patterned with dreidels, though Kyoya hadn’t seen a single dreidel in the de Grantaine household.

Someone at his school in Boston had once told him that dreidels only fun when you were a kid and then started being fun again when you were an adult playing with alcohol. Kyoya had no idea what any of that meant.

A line was forming near the table so Kyoya snuck off toward the living room. He spotted a menorah with a few candles lit on the coffee table. It provided the only light in the room. Kyoya stat down on a new couch and unpeeled the paper carefully.

The present turned out to be a sweater, with an abstract pattern printed on the front. No, wait, it was a word, probably German.

_Fick dich_

Kyoya wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh. Had Anne-Sophie known…well she had winked at him.

Kyoya fought back a smile. Then, as abruptly as the amusement had come, it vanished, and Kyoya’s face fell with it. He clenched the sweater harder than he needed to and sighed. He didn’t want to get something to eat. He didn’t want to be in a room full of people talking about him in a language he couldn’t understand. People looking at him, maybe seeing through him like Tamaki had seen through him. Dread was settling in the pit of his stomach and he sat alone in the living room, in the dark.

He didn’t want to go home. There was nothing at home for him. But he didn’t like being here. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn’t deserve to be here.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Kaoru had texted him.

_what day do you want to meet at the shrine?_

Kyoya considered his reply carefully. School in Boston didn’t resume until the 7th.

_The fifth or sixth would be best. Most people won’t be off work, so there will be fewer crowds and it’ll give everyone else a chance to visit a shrine with their family first._

Kyoya stared at his text. His family had a very complicated relationship with shrine visits.

Kyoya hit send and sighed, the folded sweater still in his lap. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, but Kyoya didn’t even know what he was stressed about. It seemed these palpitations were a constant part of his life now.

Why hadn’t he tried to charm Tamaki’s family like everyone else?

Kyoya bit his lip.

No, he was better than this, he was better than sulking in a room by himself. He wasn’t a middle schooler.

And yet Kyoya still wanted to blow out the menorah. To sit in the dark until Tamaki found him, until someone noticed he was missing. A headache was forming in one of his temples. Kyoya scratched at the bump on his neck, something he hadn’t done in years. When he was little he would pick at it often, but then he grew up and learned how to behave properly. The urge to pick never went away. Just like the urge to cry. But Kyoya grew up and he knew better than to do either of those things.

He scratched at the skin, but didn’t pick at it. Not yet.

 

 

The rest of his stay was as nice as it was maddening or as peaceful as it was terrible. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Tamaki being by his side constantly until Tamaki was right next to him again. Always there to translate, to make corny jokes and puns.

“Purrrrr _gatoire, hah!_ Oh that doesn’t make sense in Japanese. Uhh…it’s like… _”_

They spent two hours trying to get a paper airplane on the roof and then spent the next three playing Dragon Age.

“We should really help the villagers.”

“We’re supposed to be evil.”

“Still…”

Tamaki would always kick Kyoya’s feet under the table then acted like he hadn’t. Tamaki insisted they take the dog for a walk together again, then lost the dog. The two of them spend hours trying to find her again.

Tamaki’s grandfather kept teaching Kyoya some French, which Kyoya was pretty sure were prayers, and Tamaki’s grandmother kept looking at him in silent approval. Anne-Sophie taught him how to make apple turnovers, something she did when she was feeling down and needed to do something methodical. The little girl with the camera, Amélie, turned out to be half Filipino and not deaf, but selectively mute. She followed Kyoya around a lot, taking pictures, showing them to him. Amélie conscripted Kyoya to help her rescue a cat from a tree and bury a dead bird in the de Grantaine’s backyard. Besides her parents and Tamaki (who could sign reasonably well), she communicated as well with Kyoya as she did everyone else. She would have been the perfect little sister.

It was the happiest Kyoya had been a while. And it was terrible.

He shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. He shouldn’t feel so bad. He should have had a better hold on himself. Guilt writhed in his stomach up until the very last day where Tamaki’s grandmother Camille Jeanne Varill said something to him in perfect, unaccented English.

“Guilt is a terrible double edged sword. A monster and a curse. Don’t think that wielding it against yourself means you won’t get cut on both sides.”

Kyoya had no idea what she meant. Except he did. He knew. And he hated that she was right.


	4. God Shido, you're so stupid!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stars, Shrines and Shido

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have thoughts? On this fic? On this show? On life? Tell me. I am always open to talking about things and if you have comments or concerns you can always leave a comment (even criticism! as long as you are very specific). You can talk to me here or on my tumblr www.stories-n-thing.tumblr.com

Tamaki and Haruhi were supposed to be having a romantic dinner, to make up for not seeing each other on Christmas. Kyoya was seated in the same restaurant, far away from them. The place was nice without being lavish. Mirrors were everywhere and the wait staff were cordial without being subservient or pretentious. Tamaki had picked the restaurant well.

Tamaki seemed like he was trying to be himself. He snorted at least once and managed to knock over a cup of water, soaking himself and shattering the glass. Haruhi seemed apprehensive. She might have been mad at him for that botched dinner weeks ago, or maybe she felt bad about not going with Tamaki to France. Or maybe she didn’t care about either of those things.

Kyoya watched and then halfway through the dinner he saw Tamaki laugh and he knew it was fake. After that, Tamaki tensed. He was just as animated, but he kept looking at himself, or searching Haruhi’s face for answers.

“I always feel like I’m ‘on’ when I talk to her.” Tamaki had said.

Kyoya frowned.

When Haruhi went to the washroom, Kyoya approached Tamaki immediately. He sat where Haruhi sat and didn’t think about it.

“Be yourself.” Kyoya looked down at Haruhi’s plate. It was clean. “You said—”

“I know,” Tamaki sighed and leaned back. “I know.”

“She’s your friend. Give her some credit.” Kyoya said. He stood up and scratched his neck. He went back to his table and ordered the check. He wasn’t sure what the food tasted like. In some way, in the back of his mind, Kyoya knew this was all leading somewhere. He was rushing toward something deep within himself. If only he knew what.

Haruhi came back, but Kyoya couldn’t watch anymore.

#

Kyoya sat on his bed, Tamaki’s laptop in front of him. At some point today Tamaki would notice the laptop was gone, but after yesterday’s dinner with Haruhi, Kyoya figured it might take Tamaki a while.

Kyoya’s Human Noble character has just sided with the werewolves and decided to slaughter the elves. Right now, as he helped a group of cursed humans commit genocide he didn’t want to think about Tamaki.

His heart was still beating too fast, but he wasn’t stressed out about anything in particular. There was no need to be worried.

Kyoya saved his game and switched characters to the Dwarf Noble. He had his character walk around Ostagar and prepare for battle, but he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with him. Who was he going to be?

Kyoya’s phone rang. It was Haruhi.

He could send the call directly to voicemail. Kyoya picked up.

“Hello.”

“I was wondering…if you want to hang out,” Haruhi’s voice didn’t sound unsure per se, but there was something underneath her tone that Kyoya wasn’t getting.

“Now?”

“Yes, there’s a park near my house, we could walk and talk…”

Kyoya said nothing.

“Kyoya, it’s not what you think. I know you. I _know_.”

Kyoya sighed and asked for the address. He closed Tamaki’s laptop, the fate of the third Aeducan heir undecided. He snuck out of his house and called a cab. He didn’t want his driver and security to follow him and listen to whatever Haruhi had to say. He’d never done anything like this until Boston, but sometimes being alone by yourself was better than being alone in a crowd.

Kyoya managed to find Haruhi sitting on a swing set, looking at her phone. Her hair, longer now, fell in front of her face, obscuring it. The sky was darkening and the wind sent a chill down Kyoya’s spine. Kyoya sat on the swing set beside Haruhi and looked at the desolate playground in front of him.

“You want to talk about Tamaki?” Kyoya asked, pushing himself back on the swing. He looked straight ahead, not at Haruhi, but at monkey bars and slides. He could still see her shake her head.

“We can…” Haruhi sighed. “There were other things I wanted to know. But…why Tamaki he so nervous? Sometimes, sometimes he seems fine and great, but then…or he keeps doing things, things that affect me, without asking! He thinks he doesn’t need my permission to take photos of me or mess up my kitchen or like he can just plan these things and I’ll go along with it. Like I _have_ to go along with it. I know he means well, but there are so many consequences to his actions and he…” Haruhi trailed off and shook her head. “It’s not fair to ask you I guess.” She kicked her feet out in front of her.

“Why did you want to talk to me then? And not Hikaru or Kaoru?”

“Because I know you never had a crush on me…” Haruhi trailed off. Kyoya still couldn’t see her face, only a closed off wall of hair. “I just mean, you’ll be able to tell me the truth.”

“Well…” Kyoya wasn’t what Haruhi was looking for. Kyoya wasn’t an unbiased opinion.

“Am I wrong?” Haruhi asked.

Kyoya furrowed his brow. “About what?”

“About, about everything. Am I wrong? Am I too closed off or rude or…”

“Why do you…?”

“This entire relationship is making me second guess myself.” Haruhi sighed and looked up at the sky. They were in the city, and they wouldn’t see any stars, even if it was darker, but Kyoya knew that never stopped the hope that one would appear. It never stopped the wanting to get lost in the vastness of the universe. Or maybe that was just him.

“You can be very unempathetic sometime.” Kyoya said suddenly. “Not unsympathetic, but you don’t consider that other people will feel different than you, though you’re better now.” Kyoya shrugged. “But like everyone sometimes you’re right and sometimes you’re wrong.” Haruhi considered this. “You’re making a lot of decisions about your future anyway, that’s probably making you uncertain, but you’ll figure it out.”

“It’s just, that sometimes I don’t know. About our relationship, if I’m being fair or…I’ve never done this. But I never went to America either and I just…should I have taken the scholarship money? Should I have told my dad to keep what he had?” Haruhi leaned further back. “I used to be more sure about my decisions.”

“I would have taken the money. But I always take the money.” Kyoya looked up at the blackening sky with her. “That doesn’t make me a good person.”

“Or a bad one.”

“I’m pretty sure desiring money—”

“It’s not about the desire.” Haruhi looked at him like she could see his soul. “It’s about action. It’s hard getting over people, but it’s the trying that’s important.”

“I just said that my action would be to take the money—”

“That’s not what we’re talking about and you know it.” Haurhi sighed. She grabbed onto the chains of the swing set and pushed off. “You don’t have to feel bad you know. Liking someone just springs up at you.”

“I thought we were talking about you?”

Haruhi smiled. “You know, when Tamaki and I were first dating, I felt like I was replacing you. That all these things I was doing with Tamaki…  I thought if I weren’t there, you’d be doing them with him instead. But you know what? Tamaki is a grown man and he can make his own decisions about who and when he wants to spend time with people. It’s not our job to worry about it.” Kyoya opened his mouth to stay something, Haruhi barrelled on, shutting him down. “I trust you Kyoya, that’s what’s important. I know you.” Haruhi paused. “You’re not a bad person, you just try so hard to be.”

Kyoya opened his mouth, then closed it. Silencing was better than having his voice crack, pausing was better than a misstep.

He waited for a moment, until Haruhi was looking at him again, searching.

 “And you’re right.” Haruhi said. “I don’t always consider his point of view, but that doesn’t make me wrong either or a bad person. I just need to be more sure of myself, but that doesn’t mean not listening to what other people have to say.”

Did everyone have moral epiphanies so suddenly? One minute he’s talking and the next Haruhi completely understands?

 “I’m not the person you should talk to about morality though.” Kyoya said.

Haruhi hummed. “I used to think that too. But then I realized you always do the right thing when it counts. And really, that’s all that matters.”

What was Kyoya supposed to do with this praise? Haruhi had asked him to analyze _her_ not the other way around. But when you look into the abyss…

“You’re thinking of breaking up with Tamaki when you’re in law school?” Kyoya said. That seemed like something Haruhi might do.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t _want_ to, but I don’t know that it’s worth it not to. I need some time to think about it, some time to think about things from his perspective. I have a lot of other decisions to make. University, careers, life changing decisions. The space has been good, but it’s just…” Haruhi shrugged. “He’s just not _listening_ to me and then he says that I’m not listening to him. Something everything is fine, but life can’t be just cuddling on couches and maybe I do…love…him but there’s still my future. I don’t know if we want the same thing and neither of us seems to be great at discussing what it is we do want.” Haruhi sighed. “I’m not usually very introspective. It’s hard.”

“It is.” Kyoya’s voice was small even to his own ears. He thought about what Camille Jeanne had said. He pushed himself on the swing, something he hadn’t done since he was five, maybe six. “My mother died.”

“I know.”

Kyoya swallowed. “I spent a long time thinking about it and a long time trying not to think about it. You’re mother was sick, your father would have been preparing you for her death. It was different for me. I…not thinking about something, doesn’t mean you really aren’t thinking about it. It means you’re lying to yourself.” Kyoya could hear the creak of the swing set, two swings idly rocking back and forth. It was ominous and nostalgic in a way Kyoya had almost forgotten.

Haruhi cleared her throat. “My father says it’s fine to put myself first, to put my needs ahead of others. That it’s only when I put my ‘wants’ ahead of other people’s ‘needs’ that it’s selfish. But he’s my dad so…”

“So you don’t think he means it.”

Haruhi sighed. “I don’t know what I think.”

Kyoya didn’t say anything. They sat in silence for a while. The night was quiet, almost asleep. Right now, it seemed like he could do anything. There was no mistake he could make that would have any real consequences. Something uncoiled in Kyoya’s stomach.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat together, silent and together. He wasn’t sure how much longer he wanted to sit there. It grew darker and Kyoya felt more and more asleep. The things he had been worrying about moments before seemed to melt away from him. Some of them he knew, distantly but sure, some of them were gone forever.

“The idea of Tamaki, is very different than how Tamaki actually is.” Haruhi said after a while. All at once Kyoya woke up and for one moment he truly _understood_.

“No. It isn’t.” Not if you really knew Tamaki. For the first time Kyoya wondered if maybe, Tamaki and Kyoya were more similar than he’d thought.

 

Yuuichi’s wife Aki was at the Ootori house when Kyoya got back. It was late but that didn’t seem to bother her. She was waiting in the foyer, holding her ten-month-old daughter Azumi. Kyoya raised an eyebrow and Aki just rolled his eyes. When Kyoya was younger he’d always looked up to Aki. A part of him had hoped, once she started dating his brother, that she could fill the hole Kyoya’s mother had left. But she couldn’t and neither could Fuyumi.

“Shido suggested we visit a shrine.” She said. Every year Kyoya’s family gathered for New Years, the possibility that they would visit a shrine ever present. Various people suggested specific sites and eventually no one went anywhere.

“We’re starting early this year?” Kyoya asked. Aki lead him down the hall.

“No, he…” Aki paused. This wasn’t good. “He’s very adamant. Fuyumi told him this is the way we always do it, but he said,” Aki cleared her throat. “‘If you want to go to a shrine, then let’s go, if you don’t, don’t suggest it.’” Aki looked at Kyoya. “Honestly, this is the stupidest thing he’s ever said.”

Aki was trying to take him into confidence. She was trying to create some sort of familial relationship. Kyoya bit his lip.

“He seems nice, and he does everything Fuyumi says so I’m not sure what to say. Unless they’re fighting…?”

“Well Dr. and Mr. Shido might be having some disputes, but I don’t think this is a fight. I don’t know what it is.” Aki continued to lead him until they came to the kitchen. Kazuo, Yuuichi’s oldest son, who was four, was playing with a stuffed rabbit while Kyoya’s dad and Fuyumi stared at Shido. Yuuichi was playing with their other son, Aoi, who was sitting on the floor sucking on his feet. Akito was biting his nails.

“Fine.” Kyoya’s dad said. He looked at Kyoya, satisfied that everyone was finally here. Then he turned back to Shido, his teeth clenched his expression stone. “Let’s go to a shrine.” Yoshio smiled and it would instantly recognizable to anyone who really knew Kyoya.

Shido seemed to realize something was going on above his head, but he said nothing. He just looked at his wife, who was shaking her head at his stupidity.

“I’ll drive.” She said. Nao Shido looked taken aback, but all at once Kyoya knew exactly where they were going.

 

Fuyumi and Kyoya’s dad sat up front in the drivers seat, the partition up. Shido and the other Ootoris sat in the back of the limo. No household staff would accompany them, not where they were going. The drive was very long and everyone was steadfast in refusing to meet Shido’s eyes.

Even Aoi and Kazuo, avoided looking directly at him. Kazuo played with his bunny, sometimes looking up at his parents or Kyoya. Aoi continued to try to eat his foot. They both had twelve fingers, so did Azumi.  It was a mark from Kyoya’s mother. Yuuichi had eleven fingers, since one had to be removed after an accident. Did Yuuichi regret the surgery now; did he regret the extra distance from their mother? Did Fuyumi or Akito ever wish they had more fingers?

“I am going to have a bunny farm when I’m big.” Kazuo said. He looked up at Kyoya. Kyoya suddenly remembered being seven and having his father tell him playing with stuffed elephants was immature.

“Will you charge people to play with your bunnies?” Kyoya asked. Kazuo didn’t understand the question. Instead, he looked at Shido, and then scooched his way closer to Kyoya.

“Is Uncle Nao on time out?” Kazuo whispered to Kyoya. Except his whispering voice was very loud and Kyoya was sure Shido heard everything.

“Yes.” Yuuichi said. “Uncle Nao is on timeout.” And then no one said anything until they arrived.

 

The shrine was still as beautiful as Kyoya remembered. The trees were taller than last time though. They had always been great green things in the summer, pink in the spring and now, in the winter, they were empty. Barren hands reaching to the heavens.

 The guardians statues, the great wolf statues, were as magnanimous as always, larger than a real wolf would have been, an extra toe on each paw.

Age had not weathered them nor the other towering black structures of the shrine. The main offering hall, on the top of the hill jutted upward, as solid as rock, watching over them. The empty ema and purification troughs stood waiting.

When the car stopped and Kyoya stepped outside he could smell it in the air: the damp earth, the old dust, and even incense, an impossible smell after years of disuse. The air settled around him like an old glove and Shido stared up at the shrine and the wolves in confusion.

This was Kyoya’s aunt’s shrine. The aunt Kyoya’s mother had raised as her own; the same aunt that had carried an oxygen tank wherever she went; the same aunt who had succumbed to lung cancer two years before her sister’s death.

This abandoned shrine belonged to the Ootoris and it would be the only one they knew.

This entire car ride had been a long ‘fuck you’ to Shido, and everyone had known it, but him. Kyoya’s dad stood and surveyed the shrine before heading directly in. Everyone else followed.

Kyoya joined his dad by the Komainu stand-ins, the giant guard wolves. Kyoya’s father put his hand on Kyoya’s shoulder as Yuuichi and Aki and their children continued to the inner sanctuary.

“When your aunt died your mother was inconsolable.” His dad said. “She cried for days, loud, angry wails. She wished it had been anyone else except her sister, her daughter. My mother had died by then, so I thought I understood, but she told there was no way I could.” Kyoya’s dad was looking out at the shrine, one hand on the base of the statue, one hand on Kyoya as if Kyoya was the wolf’s counterpart. Kyoya had not expected a sudden emotional talk. His mother had been fond of these, she had hated preamble but usually his father was all preamble. Not this time. “She told me ‘one day, one day if our child dies, you will wish the same thing, that it was you, or even me.’ She had been so stern, so certain. I thought it was the grief speaking, and I dismissed it. But when she died, when I saw the car with the two of you go over… I thought you were both dead. I didn’t want to hope you were alive, because I knew I couldn’t handle the disappointment if you weren’t.” The last part was familiar and Kyoya wondered if this was another lie.

“Akito, Fuyumi and Yuuichi were so scared and I knew I had to be strong, to protect them. When they told me—when I saw you, I knew. I knew that she was right. I was so relieved that you had lived, even over her, my wife. It was terrible, awful that even knowing she was dead that I was happy you were alive. I turned away from you…because I was crying. Crying and ashamed. Ashamed because I knew I had to be strong, but right then, I knew that I was weak.”

This didn’t sound like a lie.

“Later, Akito and Fuyumi were getting into fist fights at school and Yuuichi was struggling with his grades at university, but you were doing well. I wanted to believe that you were fine. But I knew you.

“When you were kid you used to pick at your skin, you would pick and pick until you bled and then you would keep picking, but you never told anyone. You had terrible separation anxiety and you hated being alone, but you kept it to yourself. The pain. The blood. I should have known that with your mother’s death you’d be picking at it, silently, but I wanted to believe otherwise. I wanted to believe you were fine, and that I didn’t have to deal with it. Being a single parent, it…” Kyoya’s dad trailed off.

“Why-” Kyoya swallowed. “Why are you telling me this?” This wasn’t a lie. The way his dad’s voice shook, the far away look in his eyes. This was the truth.

“You’ve seemed more distant lately, and you’re going off to university soon. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care. I didn’t want you to drift away. I know I’ve made mistakes, and I’m trying to make for them now…too late. But you’re my son Kyoya, I will always love you.”

Kyoya bit lip. He stared at the statue’s paws. The smell of the stone was familiar. More than a decade had passed, but he still remembered the smell.

“Was coming here necessary?” Kyoya asked. He felt like he had just woken up from a nightmare. It wasn’t the fear that was familiar, not it was the sensation of wanting and not wanting simultaneously was recognizable. Just like he did and didn’t want to sleep, Kyoya yearned for the truth, but was terrified he would actually get it.

“Shido,” his dad said. “Should have listened when his wife told him no. She told him that this was the way we did things and he thought he could go over her head to talk to me. No one disrespects my children.” Kyoya’s dad sighed. He leaned his back against the statue and Kyoya wasn’t sure that was allowed, but there was no one here that would know. No one here to stop him except ghosts.

“I wanted Fuyumi to be my heir once. She was much smarter than your brothers. She worked harder. She was the captain of her hockey team. She had true leadership potential. I thought, if she were just more assertive, if she acted more masculine, she’d be the perfect heir. But she didn’t want to manage a business, she wanted to save people’s lives—”

“Why are—”

“Don’t interrupt Kyoya.” His father didn’t snap. Not exactly. “I thought, if Fuyumi wasn’t prepared to step up and lead, then she was a coward, no better than a simple housewife. I…we had arguments. I admit, I was wrong. I couldn’t conceive of her reasons, but I think I understand them now. She was worried that to be heir, to please me, she would have to be someone she wasn’t. She would have to give up her soft side or her love for commoner food. She was worried that I didn’t accept her for who she was. But I did, I do. No matter what Kyoya, if you are gay or depressed or a girl inside or whatever it is. You will always be my child. I don’t know that I’ve made that very clear, but you will be. And you can be any of those things and still be heir, so long as you know how manage the business in spite of them. As long as you have a plan and are prepared.”

This was new. Kyoya almost laughed.

“When you were younger, I knew how you hated when people didn’t expect things of you, how you thought it meant they didn’t consider you worth something. I tried to do the opposite, but I fear I pushed you too far.”

What was Kyoya supposed to say? He should say _something_. Probably he should say he forgave his father. But he didn’t. He thought of Haruhi. _“I don’t know what I think.”_

“But,” Kyoya’s father wasn’t done. ”Above everything else I would move a mountain to save you. I don’t know how Suoh could have left his son in France.  Any child of mine, illegitimate or not, would be mine. I would have claimed Tamaki. I would have dealt with the consequences instead of hiding behind my mother. If there is one thing I cannot tolerate it’s cowards. And yet…and yet I have been so afraid in my dealing with you, that I fear I have made a fool of myself. You were always so brave, impossibly so. Terrified of so many things, but you face them anyway.

“Once I said you were too much like your mother, and I meant too much for me, you reminded me so much of her I didn’t know what to do. You could move more than mountains Kyoya. You could do anything if you believed you could. I have no doubt you could be a worthy heir, there is no question about that. The question is whether or not that’s what you want to do.”

When Kyoya turned to his father briefly, he saw tears leaking down his dad’s face, a steady stream. There was a beat where Kyoya watched his father cry, fascinated and horrified and confused. Then, Kyoya’s father sighed and walked away, leaving Kyoya alone. Kyoya wasn’t crying. Not yet. What was all this supposed to mean? What was any of this was supposed to mean?

Sometime later, twigs snapped and something small waddled toward him. Kyoya turned around and saw Kazuo, stuffed rabbit in hand, careening toward him.

“Big Brother, come there’s a bunny and it’s real!” Kazuo smiled. _Big_ _Brother_. He was Kyoya’s nephew. And yet the age difference between him and Kazuo and him and Yuuichi was the same. Kyoya had been born out of sync to the generations. His older siblings were getting married and having families and he wasn’t even done high school. Kazuo ran into Kyoya’s leg and wrapped his little arms around it.

Kyoya remembered being that tiny and wanting to follow his brothers around. He remembered hiding in laundry baskets and corners and following Yuuichi. He remembered wanting to play with Akito, who told him he was too small to play with the big kids.

Kyoya remembered struggling to read, not knowing why all the letters blurred in front of him. He had asked Akito for help, only to be told that he was smart enough to be able to figure it out by himself. Fuyumi was always busy with hockey or school and Yuuichi would sigh, and tell him “not today little bro,” because everyone excepted so much of Yuuichi and no one expected anything of Kyoya.

Finally, Kyoya would find him mom, who had wanted him to be the best elephant scientist ever. “You can have the others Yoshio, this one is _mine_ ,” she’d say and she would tickle Kyoya and he’d laugh, creepy and deep even as a toddler. He’d wanted nothing more than to be like her. He had only wanted to please her, and make her happy.

And then…

And then…

“ _Big Brother,_ we have to go fast so we can see the bunny.” Kyoya looked up for Yuuichi or Aki, but finding no one, he grabbed onto Kazuo’s little six-fingered hand and followed him into the shrine.


	5. Barkspawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoya cries again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! This got done way faster than I thought. The things you can accomplish when you're procrastinating editing something else. I was surprised by how well I liked the prose and what happened here. It turns out when you edit something six times, it becomes better. Who knew. Hope for my other writings I guess.
> 
> If you have seen anything I've missed in editing, or anything you think I've done well, tell me. You can tell me here or on my tumblr www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com BUT SERIOUSLy feedback is really important for someone trying to hone their editorial nose. I gotta know if I made the right calls.

Kyoya was crying.

His family had spent the night at the shrine, staying at an inn in town. He’d managed to keep it together then. Shido had been suitably embarrassed and everyone had decided to eat talk about their aunt, whom Kyoya barely remembered.

Finally, at 4pm the next day Kyoya went home. He climbed into his bed, Tamaki’s laptop still there.

Then he’d started breathing too fast and tears had spilled down his face. Snot dripped down his nose and trying to wipe it was futile. His phone rang beside him, but he didn’t answer it. Instead, he went to his closest, opened the door and sat on the ground, back to the wall. He brought his knees up to his chest and tried to breath.

He tried to snort some mucus back into his nose, but it trickled down his throat and then he had problems swallowing.

Why was he crying? He wasn’t more upset then usual. In fact, he was freer and lighter than he’d been in a while. But as the minutes ticked by the tears kept coming.

He heard his door open and assumed it was one of the maids. There were only five of them, two per day, and he could have learned their names if wanted. All he remembered was that one of them had been rude to Kyoya’s mother. Had called her “crazy” and “a lunatic” and Kyoya couldn’t remember which one it had been. He didn’t want to learn their names.

There was a yipping noise and a “shhhh,” but then Kyoya breathed in, too sharp and too fast. From his closet, Kyoya saw only his bed. Then Tamaki stepped into view, placing a small, black dog on Kyoya’s duvet and picking up his laptop. He turned around, spotted Kyoya and flinched.

“Are-Are you okay?”

“I’m…” Kyoya swallowed. “I’m great, if you can believe it,” Kyoya laughed. He probably looked awful, and sounded deranged, but he couldn’t help it. Tamaki picked up the dog and brought him toward Kyoya, settling the puppy directly in front of Kyoya before sitting down.

The puppy was all black, its fur sticking up wildly. It looked like a husky or possibly a little wolf.

“I got you a dog.” Tamaki shrugged. Kyoya tried to stop laughing or crying. “I also came to get my laptop and I know you’ve been playing Dragon Age without me.” Tamaki tried to look stern, but the effect was somewhat undermined by his aggressive dog petting. “I thought you might get lonely in Boston, during university…I applied to Boston U and to Ouran, and other schools in Japan and Paris.” Tamaki stretched out his legs and nudged Kyoya with his foot. “I don’t know what I’ll do.” Tamaki sighed. “Acceptances don’t come until the spring, but…it’s a lot to think about.”

Kyoya put his legs down and pulled the puppy into his lap.

“What are you going to name it?” Tamaki asked.

Kyoya shrugged. “Cat.” Maybe he should think of something meaningful. But that would mean keeping the dog.

“Don’t name the dog Cat.” Tamaki looked so serious that Kyoya couldn’t help, but grin. He probably looked like a mess. Really he should feel bad just to be seen like this. But he didn’t.

“Fine I’ll name it _Princess_.”

“I think it’s a boy dog.”

“Cat is a gender neutral name.”

“Oh my god,” Tamaki rolled his eyes and chuckled. He stared at Kyoya and Kyoya met his gaze. Kyoya was going to name the dog Cat. For the sheer satisfaction of it, he was going to do it.

“I’ll come back to you in the summer you know.” Kyoya said. “From school. For four months I can be wherever you are.” Kyoya said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Tamaki about Haruhi’s worries about law school. “And you get breaks to see your family.”

Tamaki shrugged. The dog, Cat, was licking at Kyoya’s bare toes.

“I-when we were in France, during Kyoya Ootori Honest Hour, you said so many things and I had so much to say to you. I just…” Tamaki trailed off. Kyoya swallowed more snot.

“Is this dog house trained?”

“Yeah. Look I wanted to tell you things, and it wasn’t that I was afraid to tell you, I think.” Tamaki scooted closer and bumped his knee against Kyoya’s. “When I came here, I wasn’t happy all the time you. I’m still not sometimes. I fake it. After a while, faking it starts to seem real. But I still have secrets. I—”

“You don’t have to pour your heart and soul out to me because you feel guilty.” Kyoya scratched Cat behind the ears. “What did we name the dog in Dragon Age? Barkspawn?”

“Do not name the dog Barkspawn.” Tamaki said. Kyoya fought back a smile and wiped his sleeve over his face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.” Tamaki pouted and Kyoya wondered if he _knew_.

“Did your dinner go well?”

“It-It wasn’t what I’d hope for but it wasn’t bad. I think…I’m going to throw her a surprise birthday party.”

“What are we planning?”

“Not _we_ …”Tamaki trailed off and Kyoya’s head shot up. “I need to this by myself. You’ve put a lot of effort into getting us together and helping us stay together and I need…I need to know that I want to be Haruhi because I love her, not because you keep fixing my mistakes. I’ve given it a lot of thought. Her birthday is about a week before Valentines Day. I don’t…sometimes I’m not sure what she wants from me, you know? Or what I want for myself. This relationship isn’t what I thought it would be and if I don’t want it for what it is, then I should…should do something about it.”

“Okay,” Kyoya chose his next words carefully. This didn’t seem like it boded well. He had never seen two people who could switch from ridiculously in love to contemplating breaking up so easily. Then again he didn’t have a lot of couples to compare it to. “Okay,” Kyoya repeated. “What are you going to do?”

“Not yet,” Tamaki said. His eyes were far away. “I can’t tell you yet.”

Kyoya wished he knew the right thing to say. He wished he were comforting and soft like Fuyumi. But he wasn’t. He was hard and solid, a rock. Reliable. “I just want you to be happy.” Kyoya didn’t know how many times he’d said it before, but usually Tamaki smiled. This time he frowned, his brows pushed together and he sided.

“I know Kyoya. I want me to be happy too.”

Kyoya could make a joke, say “don’t you mean you want _me_ to be happy?” but instead he told Tamaki about his shrine visit. He talked about his aunt and his childhood and that time in third grade where he fell off a balcony and broke his arm. It all came pouring out of him like thick, toxic sludge and with each secret he told he felt lighter and cleaner. This was how it should be.

He hadn’t meant to keep so many secrets from Tamaki, but really, Kyoya knew, he’d been trying to keep them from himself.

Kyoya didn’t pay attention to the tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t sad. Not really. Not anymore.

Still, a small luminous cloud called “Haruhi’s birthday” was floating in the air beside him, a reminder to Kyoya that his gut couldn’t untwist just yet. He thought about what Haruhi said about Tamaki, about neither of them really listening to the others. She was right. This couldn’t go on forever, something was going to break. There was always a calm before the storm.

Kyoya looked at Cat and Tamaki, all three of them huddled in Kyoya’s closet. If this was the calm before the storm, he was going to enjoy it.


	6. Happy Birthday!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what you expect. Also missed kisses in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well!  
>  One chapter down!   
> Things are heating up and if you're mad about them tell me. Or if you're happy about them or if you want permission to fic all my spelling mistakes OR you're gf broke up with you and you feel the pain of it, acute and agonizing and fresh and only reading fanfic can ease the heartbreak. Whatever the case may be hit me up [HERE](http://www.stories-n-thing.tumblr.com)

Kyoya was having a _good day,_ no a good _week_. He’d just finished his first semester exams and was confident about his marks. He’d beaten Dragon Age, Cat had cuddled up to him all last night, and Kyoya had received some very nice pictures of France from Tamaki’s cousin Amélie. He had started reading for fun again, his stocks were doing well and for a few days he was utterly at peace.

And then he remembered Haruhi’s birthday. He had woken up at one pm today and he had the distinct feeling he had missed it. He dressed, fed Cat, and bolted over to Haruhi’s apartment immediately, but he was too late. Much too late.

The party was a disaster.

Or Kyoya assumed it was.

It was all Kyoya could do to merely survey the damage in the apartment without passing judgement. Tamaki and Haruhi were standing in the middle of the room silently glaring at each other. Furniture was toppled over, there were bits of cake and feathers, and god knows what plastered to the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. There was a muffled flapping of wings coming from somewhere and something by the sink was on fire.

 “Did you know about this?” Haruhi asked, turning to Kyoya. Kyoya opened his mouth to say something. Then pulled out his phone and dialled 911.

“He didn’t tell me.” Kyoya said, as the phone rang.

“You let him—”

“Tamaki,” Kyoya said, lifting the phone up to his ear. “Can make his own decisions.” Kyoya walked out into the hall and talked to the emergency response operator about the fire.

“I said I was sorry,” Tamaki said. “I was just trying to give you a perfect surprise party! How was I supposed to know I didn’t secure the dove cages well enough…” His tone was low, not nervous, not like he was really trying to get Haruhi to forgive him.

“You never think about these things! You came into _my_ apartment, without asking and set-up this ridiculous display without even considering the consequences. You destroyed my apartment! Someone could have gotten hurt Tamaki—”

“By _accident—_ ”

“Through negligence! Your actions have consequences. You need to think about these things and you can't just make decisions that affect other people without asking them."

Tamaki shook his head. “Look, I’ll clean this place and I’ll make it up to you for Valentine’s Day. I rented out an entire skating rink for a few hours—”

“I don’t even like skating.” Haruhi rubbed her temples, then crossed her arms and hurried over to where Kyoya was still talking on his phone. Kyoya held up a hand for her to wait. She turned back to Tamaki. “And all those people who _do_ like skating, can’t go now, because you rented out the _entire_ rink. That’s pretty selfish. If you really wanted to go skating, you didn’t have to prevent a bunch of other people from going. And you could have _asked_.” Haruhi stood at the lip of the door as Kyoya got off the phone. “When are the fire fighters going to get here?”

“It shouldn’t be long, she dispatched someone,” Kyoya trailed off. He wasn't sure what to say. He should say _something_ , but Haurhi was right, but Tamaki was _also_ right. Kyoya kept his mouth shut.

“You said you went skating with your dad every Valentine’s Day.” Tamaki’s voice was small. His shoulders were slumped. This wasn't good. He looked defeated. Shouldn't he look like he had a plan?

“Yes, because that’s what my dad wanted. You would have learned that if you’d bothered to ask, if you talked about your plans instead of doing everything behind my back. And I could have still gone with you, but didn’t need to kick everyone else out either. How are we supposed to be in a relationship if you're just doing everything by yourself without talking to me about it?”

“How was I supposed to know to ask? You never tell me…” Tamaki sighed. “You know what. You're right." Tamaki swallowed and straightened.  "I think…I think I made a mistake.”

 Kyoya was watching a train wreck in slow motion, it was like riding in the car with Shido all over again.

“I shouldn’t have followed you here.” Tamaki said. “I…if this is all our relationship is going to be, arguing and fights then...and you're right though. I _should_ have—it doesn't matter now. I think it’s better we break up…”

The penny dropped and Haruhi kept blinking, again and again. Kyoya tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. Neither of them deserved this.

“I…” Haruhi was out of words. But she wasn’t angry. Kyoya might have been angry, in her place.

“I just…I keep trying to impress you and I feel like I have to be on guard all the time and for what? It’s clear neither of us is really listening to the other and…”

“It’s not like that all the time! Sometimes we’re good…” Haruhi’s didn’t even sound like she believed herself.

Should Kyoya just leave?

“It’s like that all the time for me. I,” Tamaki shook his head. “I’m sorry. I think it was better when we were just friends. Friends can have differences, but now?

"I don’t want you to be mad. I don’t want to destroy your apartment or upset you but I just keep hoping…” Tamaki’s voice was about to crack. “I know it’s not fair to expect me to be the most important thing to you.” Tamaki leaned against an already filthy wall. “But I don’t want be on the backburner. I don’t want to feel like I’m second place or an after thought. I want to be enough, by myself, to make you happy. And I’m not. And…and I never will be and its unrealistic for me to expect that.” Tamaki stalked out of the apartment, pushing passed Kyoya. “I’ll clean it all up later. Just…” He went home. Probably to take a shower or cry. Or both. If he was anything like Kyoya he'd be doing the former, trying not to slip into the latter.

Kyoya turned to Haruhi. He was dizzy, and sick, like he could throw up any moment. He wanted to pick at his skin.

“It’s not your fault,” Haruhi said to him.

“I know.”

There was a beat, a few seconds of silence and then Haruhi spoke again, utterly defeated. “You’re supposed to say it wasn’t my fault either.”

“I don’t know that it wasn’t. I’m not the arbiter of your relationship.” Kyoya didn’t meet her eye. The fire alarm finally went off.

Haruhi didn’t seem like the kind to cry, but that could have just been wishful thinking because Kyoya couldn’t comfort a crying person.

“I…” Haruhi started. Kyoya could hear Haruhi swallow. “I didn’t know he felt that way.”

And then, because Kyoya was nothing if not cruel, he said “that’s because you didn’t ask.”

And he left.

Except he didn’t leave.

He hovered by the door, then turned back to Haruhi. “I think Tamaki you both had very different expectations from this relationship. You didn’t do anything _wrong_ Haruhi, not really, but that doesn’t mean it’s not your fault.”

Haruhi didn’t say anything.

“You didn’t tell him he had to impress you. He wanted to because he felt that whatever it was—”

“Because whatever it was I felt for him wasn’t enough.” Haruhi sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“You’re enough Haruhi. You’re both enough by yourselves. You know that, and I had hoped that’s what you would teach Tamaki.”

Haruhi wasn’t looking at him.

Kyoya did leave then, but he didn’t talk to Tamaki. Not yet.

Kyoya wanted to play Dragon Age. He wanted to not think about anything of this or how he was going to fix it. It wasn’t his job to fix it. It wasn’t his relationship.

But Kyoya knew. Kyoya knew he was going to try. If his father was right and Kyoya was capable of anything, then the least Kyoya could do was to try to make Tamaki feel better.

 

 

Realizing he’d been in love with Tamaki had been a complicated experience. It had been the middle of winter, and they’d gone to the Swiss Alps during vacation.  Instead of skiing, he and Tamaki had strolled around the shops, enjoying the cool air and decorative storefronts.

To be frank it had been boring until Tamaki had smacked him in the face with a snowball. Kyoya had turned, his glasses starting to fog up. Tamaki stood at the top of a hill, shin deep in snow, grinning from ear to ear.

This was the kind of shit-eating grin the rest of the club rarely saw, something Haruhi probably had never seen. In a way, just thinking of that had sent a chill down his spine. He scooped up a handful of snow, his bare hands numb and tingling with pain.

He didn’t throw the snow at Tamaki so much as he walked up to Tamaki and shoved the snow in his face.

Their fight had been immediate. Tamaki just threw handfuls of snow at him, not even bothering to pack them together. When Kyoya’s glasses were too foggy to see out of, Kyoya tackled Tamaki to the ground and focused on shoving his face into the snow.

Tamaki barked and snorted with laughter. “Not fair! Nor fair!” But Kyoya just piled snow on Tamaki’s blurry face. His heart was beating hard, his face was warm, and his stomach was light and empty. Still, he didn’t think about it, not until Tamaki flipped them over and they began to tumble down the hill. Lightheadedness became world-tilting dizziness, but the empty fluttering of his stomach was unaffected.

When they stopped rolling and come to the base of the hill, Kyoya was in no shape to get up. Kyoya, with his back against the snow and glasses skewed on his face, stared up at Tamaki who was trying to push himself up. Tamaki’s hair was golden, a halo in the gleaming, sun, his eyes were too blue and nowhere else in the world would ever be the same.

Tamaki was still laughing, snorting, and it was beautiful in a way it shouldn’t be. It was an ugly laugh, uneven and too loud, but Kyoya wanted it. He didn’t understand what he wanted about it though. Kyoya had never wanted anyone sexually and the very idea repulsed him. For a moment Kyoya pictured liking Tamaki that way, sexually.

Nothing.

That relief lasted only for a second. Then he looked up at Tamaki's smile. He wanted to stay here with Tamaki forever. He wanted to grab a fistful of Tamaki’s hair and pull him into a hug and never let go.

He was in love.

Tamaki stopped laughing. Kyoya’s smile slipped from his face. Tamaki had gone through enough; he didn’t need to have some same-sex lover complicating everything. He didn’t need Kyoya like that. He had Haruhi, maybe, and someone else if not her. There were a lot of people who could make Tamaki happy.

But god, Kyoya wanted it to be him.

“Are you okay?” Tamaki asked. “You’re very…”

For once Kyoya didn’t wonder whether he was good enough. He had always been good enough for Tamaki before, right? And if he didn’t believe that, it didn’t matter. Kyoya leaned up slightly. They were so close and it would take nothing to lean up and kiss Tamaki. Tamaki wouldn’t be upset. Even if Tamaki were straight, he wouldn’t say anything about it. Kyoya could do it, there were no consequences, and he had everything to gain. The thought of it made him light headed, almost giddy. He could do it, he could.

Tamaki brought a hand to readjust Kyoya’s glasses and the fog slipped back over Kyoya’s eyes as his glasses found their place. Kyoya paused. He paused too long. Tamaki got up, offered him a hand and Kyoya knew, he knew he had missed the moment. He knew exactly was he was going to do, exactly what he was going to avoid for the rest of his life. Kyoya knew he was a coward.

 No. Kyoya had thought he was a coward.

But not anymore.


	7. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. Seriously. It's all over. Tamaki cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS THE END! BUT WAIT! You say, there seems to be one more chapter. There's an epilogue I'm working on but the main story is finished. This is it. I hope the ending is surprising yet inevitable and if not you can always tell me here on on my tumblr which is [ here](http//:www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you have any questions or concerns or righteous indignation feel free to tell me. I don't think this story ended quite the way people thought it would so let's see about that.

On Valentine’s Day Kyoya went to the skating rink. Tamaki had still booked it, though Kyoya didn’t know if Tamaki would be there. Tamaki hadn’t been at school today and Kyoya feared the worst.

Kyoya pushed passed the double doors and stepped into rink. He looked out onto the empty ice, his skates and Tamaki’s dangling from his hand. Kyoya didn’t know what Tamaki might find cathartic.

Kyoya wandered further around the rink. Had he been wrong? No. Tamaki was at the very top of the bleachers, face red and puffy. Kayoy climbed over the rows of seats before he spotted the stairs, but he already committed to doing it this way.

“You came,” Tamaki’s voice didn’t sound broken anymore, but it was distant. His face was shiny with tear trails. “In France, when you told me all those things about you…I wanted to say something. I knew you weren’t saying those things for me. You were saying them for you and there were so many things I wanted to say, but you know, that would mean I’d have to admit them to myself.” Tamaki chuckled, but there was no mirth to it.

Kyoya sat down beside Tamaki. Tamaki’s hair was damp, clinging to his forehead, and Kyoya wanted to brush it into place.

“It’s not Haruhi’s fault,” Tamaki continued. “I think the reason I could never impress her is that she didn’t want to be impressed. She just wanted to be and she wanted me to just ‘be’ too? Does that make sense?”

Kyoya nodded, though he wasn’t sure he understood.

“It’s like, when I first met you,” Tamaki swallowed. “I was trying to distract myself. Trying to throw myself into doing things and going places so I wouldn’t think about my mother. And then, with the piano, I was trying to impress you. I was trying so hard, but the thing was, I didn’t need to impress you. It hadn't even occurred to you that I would need to impress anyone. Haruhi was like that I think, but it took me too long to figure out. I think I idealized her too much and I wanted her to idealize me...

“When I came to Japan, it was like I suddenly wasn’t enough. I wasn’t Japanese enough, wasn’t legitimate enough, or sincere enough and my father was too busy to see me and I just...I wasn’t good enough. I was afraid I was never going to be good enough. I told you that I faked the confidence, but it was hard. I cried myself to sleep for weeks after I arrived.” Tamaki stared out of the ice rink. Kyoya couldn’t tear his eyes away from Tamaki. “It did get better though. Still, I wanted to impress you both, because I wanted you to think I was good enough, but the truth was, neither of you thought I wasn’t. _You_ hadn’t even considered that me being a bastard or French would make me less worthy. As angry as you got, I knew, from that moment, that I would never have to pretend to be different around you. You were also kind of an asshole, but you were honest and above all else you cared."

Tamaki started to cry again. Kyoya was surprised to find he didn’t want him to stop. As much as he hated people crying, as much as he knew he couldn’t comfort anyone, he just wanted Tamaki to be happy. And if that meant Tamaki had to cry and Kyoya had to feel awkward about it, that was okay.

“I know what it’s like,” Kyoya said. “To never feel good enough. But you are good enough. You are so much more than good enough.”

Tamaki chuckled. “I used to feel the same way about you.” He bumped his shoulder in Kyoya’s. “I’m okay, now. Mostly.” He took a deep breath in. “I just need to talk. To just word vomit everything. I've never really said any of this out loud, you know?”

Kyoya nodded.

“When I first met Haruhi, when I thought she was a boy well, here was this poor gay kid who was getting bullied, of course I had to help. But the thing is, Haruhi didn’t need help. She never needed my help, but I don’t think I realized that until too late. When I couldn’t help her, I decided to amaze her instead, to impress her, but she was never going to be amazed because that’s just how Haruh is. I think.

“Now it makes sense, but that doesn't stop the feeling. That I'm not doing enough. But the harder I tried at that, the more I messed up because I was always being too loud and too obnoxious and she already thought I was good enough so what was the point? And then because I messed up I felt like I had to make it up to her…”

“Are you going to get back together?”

Tamaki shook his head. “I love her, I really do, but I think I need some time for myself. We didn’t start our relationship off as equal anyway. She's right. I always acted like I was the boss of her and I did all these things with even asking her if they were okay. Plus I sort of blackmailed her into spending time with me with the host club. I’ve always had boundary issues I guess.. I didn’t respect her decision and she didn’t respect mine" Tamaki leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "I've always been in love with the idea of love, but I've never really asked myself why. I've never really considered whether I really _want_ a relationship, that's the thing. I didn't need to break up with Haruhi, not really, but I didn't even know if I wanted to and that's...that's not how it's supposed to be, right?" Tamaki turned to Kyoya, but Kyoya only shrugged. “Haruhi and I shouldn’t have started dating until we respected each other. Until I learned to listen to her and not talk over her.”

 “What are you going to do now?”

“Nothing. Or...I'm not going to date anyone. I need time to be honest with myself.” Tamaki placed his hand on the seat. His fingers were close enough for Kyoya to touch, but he didn’t. “Once when I was 12 I punched a tree and broke my hand. I was so angry and I didn’t know what to do so I punched a tree. I had to go to the hospital.”

Kyoya raised his eyebrow "What are you doing?"

But Tamaki kept going. “Recently, I started reading trashy romance novels and they’re _terrible_ but I love them. I resent the fact that everyone knows me as Tamaki Suoh instead of Tamaki de Grantaine because my mother raised me by herself, and while I love my father, she was much more of a parent than he ever was. And I refuse to choose between the people I love, but sometimes I think I know who I _would_ choose.

"I don’t watch porn because of the total degradation of women and terrible violence that happens in the industry and I don’t even understand the point of sex, I’m totally indifferent to it.”

That was something Kyoya could agree with. “The whole thing seems terrifying and unnecessary. I wouldn’t want to do it.” Tamaki looked at him for a moment.

“I, do you know there’s such a thing as asexuality? That means not experiencing sexual attraction? I always felt hesitant to identify with it, because it wasn’t that I didn’t feel sexual attraction, it was that I didn’t _care_.” Tamaki shook his head, sending water droplets to hit Kyoya’s face. “I have a crush on you. When I realized I liked Haruhi and then that I liked guys I sort of realized my crush on you too. Even before I realized it, I used to think about our wedding, because we were a family right? And I’d think of whose last name you’d chose and everything would have to be in France. I came up with elaborate scenario’s where we were a married couple and our friends were our children like…I thought everyone knew. I was so obvious. It took me a while to realize no one had figured it out.

“I used to get this,” Tamaki gestured to his heart. “I don’t know thrill? That’s not the right word, every time you let me call you ‘wifey’ I started doing it all the time instead of saying ‘Mom’ or whatever and I didn’t know why. It was bad.” Kyoya didn’t say anything. Tamaki needed space, right now all Kyoya could do was listen.“ I didn’t tell you, not because I thought you’d be mad—I knew, even if you didn’t like me you’d be flattered. I didn’t even know if you liked guys—”

“I like guys,” Kyoya said. “Sort of. I mean I do, I just don’t like anyone sexually.”

“The point was,” Tamaki swallowed, then turned back to the ice rink. “I couldn’t deal with the rejection. From you or Haruhi. I spent hours trying to decide who I liked more, but you were my best friend, so I liked you over all more, but who was I more in love with? And yet I never considered who I wanted to date, or _if_ I wanted to date.

“I used to have dreams where I was marrying Haruhi and then I was already married to you so you both kind of teamed up on me. And I used to wake up confused.

“I had nightmares that my grandmother was only pretending to pay for my mom’s medical bills, that she wouldn’t let me see my mother because _Maman_ was already dead. I spend an inordinate amount of time crafting conversations in my head, and practicing hosting. And I hosted people and helped people because I thought, if I could help them, then I could help myself." Snot dripped from Tamaki’s nose. He continued to talk, to go on and on and all Kyoya could do was listen. All he wanted to do was listen.

Tamaki felt guilty, about everything, all the time, any mistakes he had made. He was anxious that he overconfident, that he wasn’t as good as he thought he was. But then he knew he should be confident, that it was the easiest way to be happy. Tamaki worked really hard at school and as much as he never wanted to be better than Kyoya, because Kyoya needed to be the best, Tamaki also did want to be better than Kyoya because Tamaki wanted to be the best. Tamaki didn’t want to study in Japan, but he knew he had to. He had to on some level because Tamaki had to run a business in Japan and he also didn’t want to do that, but he wanted to help people and he knew he could help people by running a business. He had been given all this privilege and he was going to use it help the less fortunate and not to be a kindergarten teacher (even though that’s what he really wanted). Tamaki was terrified of having lupus later in life, or having a child who had lupus like his mother.

Tamaki was scared of so many things. Kyoya was scared of so many things too.

“I thought, being with Haruhi would make me less scared, but instead I just felt like an idiot for being scared in the first place.” Tamaki laughed. “And I’m sorry, but I’ve been playing Dragon Age [without you.”](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)

“Blasphemy.”

Tamaki laughed. “I also bought Dragon Age 2 and Dragon Age Inquisition and we’ll have to finish both before you go to Harvard in the fall.”

“I haven’t gotten the acceptance yet.” Kyoya hit his shoulder against Tamaki’s. The act felt unfamiliar, but Tamaki’s smile was worth it.

“You will.”

“I brought our skates.” Kyoya shrugged. Tamaki stood up immediately and wiped his face.

“Then let’s go skating.”

They raced around the rink a few times, Kyoya always winning because Kyoya had years of experience and Tamaki still wasn’t good at stopping and was too afraid to slam into the boards.

They were laughing too much and making too much noise, but there was no one there to stop them or tell them they were being immature. Tamaki kept divulging secrets, things he’d never told anyone. About how he’d slept in the same bed as him mom until he was 11. Or how he loved octopus even though he was sure he wasn't allowed to eat it, and even though octopuses were so smart and could use tools, but they were just so _delicious_.

Kyoya laughed and skated and didn’t feel bad. He wasn’t sick. He was okay. Cat was waiting at home for him. His father had apologized, and was trying to set things right.

Things were okay.

Tamaki liked him and he like Tamaki, but Kyoya would give Tamaki the space he needed. It didn't matter if he and Tamaki were together. It didn't matter if he got back together with Haruhi, what mattered was that they were happy. Kyoya and Tamaki both.

And they were.

And it was perfect.


	8. Epilogue: one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculous names, roses and mass murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Epilogue! I thought I might as well write the little bit at the end where they get together because I am a sucker for happy endings and I'd written it before I realized that the story really ended last chapter. 
> 
> but here it is anyway! It's ridiculously sweet compared to the previous chapter but hopefully that doesn't throw people off.
> 
> Also as always you can talk to me here on my [tumblr](http://www.stories-n-things.tumblr.com)

 

Kyoya wasn’t wearing pants today. Sure it was two o'clock in the afternoon, but it was _Sunday_ , and he’d just finished an onslaught of midterms. For another thing, it was the middle of February, freezing in Boston, and Kyoya was staying at home. As beautiful as the Harvard campus was, there was nothing so beautiful that he would go outside for it today. Since it was Valentine’s Day Kyoya expected some people were trying to brave the cold, but Kyoya wasn’t foolish enough to try. 

Instead, he ate yogurt, dressed in the too large sweater he’d gotten from Anne-Sophie last year, and his boxer briefs. Cat kept whining, begging to go outside, but Kyoya was content to lounge on his couch, in his loft apartment, and eat. Even as Dog kept trying to rub against him, getting cat hair in Kyoya’s yogurt.

“Rude,” he said, staring at Dog. But Dog was choosing to ignore him. Kyoya frowned and tried to shoo her away.

Dog jumped off him a second before the doorbell rang. Cat ran to the door, too well behaved to bark, but still hyperactive from his day inside. Sighing Kyoya placed his yogurt on the coffee table. Maybe he could just lie here and not answer the door.

Cat started to whine and Dog began meowing incessantly. Kyoya rose, if only to shut them up, and opened the door.

Tamaki was there. Slightly taller than he was last year, hair wind whipped into a lion’s mane, cheeks red from the cold, eyes blown wide. His grin was infectious and impossibly large, but not as large as the gigantic bouquet of red roses he was holding. The bouquet was nearly as big as Cat, for god’s sake. As if that wasn’t enough, in Tamaki’s other hand, he held a vase of glass flowers.

Kyoya’s face seemed to move of it’s own accord, splitting into a grin, destroying any chance Kyoya had for nonchalance for a spilt second. But it was a spilt second too long, because Tamaki's face lit up even more.

“Hi,” Kyoya said, in English. He’d gotten so used to it he hardly noticed.

“Hi yourself.” Tamaki answered in Japanese. He took a step toward Kyoya, but Kyoya didn’t step back. They stood face to face, nose to nose, for an inordinate amount of time. Somewhere inside of him, something was jumping up and down and shouting.

Kyoya stepped to the side, allowing Tamaki to step in and take off his shoes. Kyoya watched as Tamaki put the flowers on the antique end table by the door. The vase itself was a whirlwind of colour and artistry, but the glass flowers were slightly uneven and misshapen. Some part of Kyoya’s brain was telling him to run, to tackle Tamaki to the ground. The other, more sensible parts decided that would go over well just yet.

“I made the glass roses. I took a class and everything, they’re not the best though.” Tamaki was still beaming, like it was impossible to stop. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Really, they should talk about things. It had been a year since they’d talked about their feelings for each other and realistically Kyoya should make sure they were on the same page and talk it out before he did anything rash. Instead, Kyoya threw his arms around Tamaki and hugged him, burying his face into the crook of Tamaki’s neck. It was the barest display of emotion he’d allowed himself since he’d cried in front of Tamaki last year.

Tamaki’s hands were cold on his back, but solid, firm, and insistent. It would be hard to misunderstand this situation.

It occurred to Kyoya that he should have probably put on pants. His legs were completely bare, and it was making everything he did more suggestive than he meant. Besides, if it had been anyone other than Tamaki at the door, not wearing pants wouldn’t have gone over well.

Slowly, Tamaki drew back. Kyoya opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. Words kept coming to him, but sentences remained elusive. This was a big moment and he wasn’t going to ruin it by mumbling something about putting on pants or making a snappish comment. Instead Kyoya cleared his throat.

“Hi,” Tamaki said again. He looked like he was going to laugh. He drew closer until Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s freezing cold breath against his lips. Kyoya swallowed. For nearly a year, he had thought this moment was never going to come. “I’m…I’m going to…” Tamaki brushed his lips with Kyoya’s just barely touching. Kyoya smashed their faces together, teeth against teeth. He had no idea what he was doing, but for once, ignorance didn’t come with shame.

Kyoya kissed Tamaki again and again and Tamaki kept laughing. It was hard to kiss Tamaki when neither of them could stop smiling, but he tried. He leaned against the front table, the smell of roses thick in the air. Cat kept jumping at Tamaki’s back, pushing them closer together until Kyoya could feel Tamaki’s chest against him. But Cat just kept jumping until Kyoya took Tamaki’s chin to the eye, and Kyoya shooed him away. Tamaki’s laughter was still uncontrollable, but then again, he hadn’t taken a chin to the eye and that had _hurt_.

“Perhaps you should be taking this more seriously,” Kyoya mumbled into Tamaki’s mouth. Hands came up around Tamaki’s neck and Kyoya hated that Tamaki was still just an inch or so taller.

“If you,” Tamaki took a deep breath, fighting to get out a full sentence. He pushed against Kyoya, leaning Kyoya further against the table. “If you lean against the table, and sort of…” His hands moved from Kyoay’s hips to the outside of his thighs. “jump? I could carry you…” Tamaki was still smiling, he pressed a kiss to Kyoya’s temple and Kyoya considered his proposal.

“Or I could carry you.”

“I don’t know if you have the upper body strength.”

Kyoya narrowed his eyes and let go of Tamaki. Truthfully, he probably didn’t have the upper body strength, but he was going to try anyway. He wasn’t going to let this affront slide. He wrapped his hands around Tamaki, forearms just under Tamaki’s butt. Kyoya focused on bending his knees. You were supposed to bend with your knees.

Tamaki leaped up and Kyoya managed to hold him up. He was impressed with himself until he tried to move. Tamaki, once again, burst out laughing.

“Oh my god.”

Kyoya scowled and hoisted Tamaki higher.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing.” Kyoya shuffled toward his living room, where his couch and his yogurt were waiting for him. Tamaki smelt like snow and roses, and something deep-fried and oily. Very suddenly, Kyoya found himself starving.

He made it to the couch carrying a giggling Tamaki, and then he dumped Tamaki unceremoniously onto the leather.

Tamaki was still wheezing with laughter. “I can’t believe you managed it.” Kyoya rolled his eyes. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that.” Tamaki managed to say it with a straight face before he burst into laughter again. He was beyond wheezing now, just silent and crying.

“Shut up, _baby_.” Kyoya said. Tamaki doubled over, he looked like he was convulsing. Kyoya arms hurt like hell and it’d be uncomfortable writing notes tomorrow, but it was worth it to hear Tamaki laugh. Kyoya smiled. He tried not to, to look firm, but he smiled anyway and sat down beside Tamaki’s unsuspecting feet. For a moment Kyoya did nothing, and then the tickling began.

Tamaki could barely breathe at this point, but that wasn’t enough for Kyoya.

“Your pet names are horribly unoriginal,” Kyoya said, going for the weak spot behind Tamaki’s shin.

Tamaki breathed something that sounded like “Sugar lips.” But it was hard to tell.

“Try again,” Kyoya said. Tamaki was still crying with laughter. Tamaki hit Kyoya with a pillow, but the effort was futile. Dog watched from a distance, but Cat started barking, concerned his second favourite person was in danger. Kyoya stopped tickling Tamaki and sat up. His heart was pounding so fast he couldn’t distinguish the individual beats.

“I come bearing flowers and this is how you treat me. Nineteen years you’ve known me and you mock my pet names and attack me. So _mean_.”

“Technically we’ve only known each other six years.” Kyoya kissed him. It still wasn’t very good. Tamaki wasn’t laughing anymore though. His first kiss should have been a big deal, but even recalling it seconds ago he wasn’t sure what the actual first kiss had felt like.

“You’re a terrible kisser,” Kyoya said, pulling away. He screwed up his features into a mask of indifference, but he didn’t think he was convincing.

“You’re not any better!”

“I have no experience, you should actually know what you’re doing. But then again, your first kiss was with your dog.”

“Well sweetheart, it’s not the first kiss that counts its—”

“The last.” Kyoya wanted to smile, but he’d smiled enough today. It would be bad for his image if he did it too often. He also wanted Tamaki to lie down on the couch, so Kyoya could lie on top of his and finish his yogurt.

“I was thinking we could go skating,” Tamaki said. “My luggage is in the hall but I wanted to take the glass roses out to show you. Kitten…nip—no, no…um kitten…tongue?” Tamaki lied down on the couch, like he could read Kyoya’s mind. Kyoya picked up his yogurt, thankful for the lack of cat hair.

“It’s too cold today. How long are you here? “

“A week. I did all my reading and work ahead of time.”

Kyoya was still sitting up, eating his yogurt, as he contemplated his. “I don’t know about ice skating. Skating was originally about Haruhi. I suppose we could play Dragon Age?”

“I don’t have my laptop.”

“I have Awakening and Darkspawn Chronicles on my mac.” Kyoya raised his eyebrows and wondered if he should move so he was straddling Tamaki. Would that be too sexual? He didn’t want it to be sexual, he just wanted to be closer to Tamaki.

“Ah yes, pillaging a city as an evil monster, Schnookums you always know the most romantic ways to spend Valentine’s Day.” Tamaki seemed to have calmed down somewhat.

Kyoya nudged Tamaki’s shin with his elbow. “Well I _could_ have planned something. But that would require my knowing that you were coming ahead of time. Something you seemed to have forgotten about.” Kyoya swallowed a spoonful of yogurt.

Tamaki hummed and sat up. Then he stole a spoonful of Kyoya’s yogurt and cackled. Okay, he was definitely not calmed down. If anything he was more keyed up than when he’d arrived at Kyoya’s door.

“Rude,” Kyoya said. He kissed him, ostensibly to get the yogurt back, but really because he could. There was more saliva involved than Kyoya had originally thought and his arm was pinned awkwardly against him, but it was perfect, in it’s own way. “The family that slays together stays together. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“I think it’s prays together actually,” Tamaki was doing an excellent job at keeping a straight face as he moved Kyoya’s yogurt cup aside, ignoring Kyoya’s grunt of protest. He kissed Kyoya slowly, gently. “Let’s play Darkspawn Chronicles, you—um sneaky witch thief.”

Kyoya didn’t breath for a second. He didn’t laugh. He wouldn’t laugh. Kyoya stood up and went to get his laptop. “You’re the one who stole my yogurt,” Kyoya called back.

He was still hungry and decided to order a pizza as he searched his room for the game. He came back find Tamaki with Cat on his lap, and Dog sitting on the armrest beside him, as Tamaki ran a hand through her fur. Cat was the size of a wolf, all black and ominous, but he still looked like a puppy curled up on Tamaki’s lap.

“It’s decided then,” Tamaki said. “The perfect pet name I mean! I’ll call you Sneaky Witch Thief.” Dog was purring audibly. Cat cocked his head to the side and looked at Kyoya.

This was it. Kyoya thought. This was what he wanted, and he’d gotten it.

Kyoya laughed.


End file.
